


Sins of the Father

by MsWikit



Series: Sins of the Father Universe [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-03-20 06:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 62,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3640305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsWikit/pseuds/MsWikit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on a mission on Mindoir, Saren discovers a recently orphaned human who shows incredible promise. Believing he can mold her into the Spectre she was obviously meant to be, Saren adopts her and raises her as his own. He comes to realize that the galaxy is full of dangers- and resolves to protect his daughter from all of them. Through whatever means necessary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Suddenly

**Author's Note:**

> You guys have no idea how long I've waited to do this fic! Now that Spare Parts is done, I can devote the proper time to it. This is going to be a long one- it'll explore both Jane's upbringing and the events of the first Mass Effect game. So I hope you guys enjoy!

There was a reason the Council didn’t care who colonized Mindoir.

And that reason was sitting in a crate surrounded by three dead batarians. Saren frowned as he stepped over their bodies. The raid had started almost as soon as he’d stepped foot on the damn colony; apparently the batarians were still a little bitter about the humans ‘stealing’ Mindoir out from under them. Batarian pirates (which were in no way backed by the Hegemony, of course) had been performing small raids on various settlements ever since the humans set down roots. 

He nudged one of the batarians with his foot. These, he hadn’t killed. They were dead when he arrived; yet the port seemed to be empty of humans. Saren had expected to see evidence of a fire fight at the very least. Instead there were gashes in each of their heads, as though someone had bludgeoned them with something. All of them. He frowned, kneeling to inspect them further. There were more gashes- on their legs. 

Something fell near a group of crates. Saren straightened and pointed his gun towards the sound, narrowing his eyes.

“Come out with your hands up,” he growled.

The command was met with terse silence. Saren frowned and slowly began to walk forward. He heard shuffling behind one of the crates. Then, a small voice: “Go away!”

Saren lowered his gun slowly. The voice was distinctly childlike. Someone’s kid had apparently hidden there. He began to walk forward, if only to confirm his suspicions-

Suddenly a small figured burst forth from around one of the crates. Something connected with the back of his legs, causing him to fall to one knee. The weapon was raised over the child’s head, ready to strike down on the back of his head. Saren grabbed the child’s arm and flipped them on to their back. The weapon – a bloodied shovel – clattered to the ground. The kid screamed. 

It was difficult for him to tell the age of a human, but he knew she was less than ten years old. Her skin was pale and covered in freckles. She had long, tangled red hair. Her clothes had dirt all down the front, and one of her knees was skinned. She was missing a shoe. And she was crying. He slowly relinquished his grip on her and picked up the shovel. The edges were covered in what seemed to be blood. _Batarian_ blood. 

_The gashes on their legs_ , he thought. She must have done to them what she’d done to him; hit the legs, get them on their knees, and then hit the head till they stop moving. Crude, but effective. Saren looked towards the girl in surprise. “… _you_ killed those batarians?”

She sat up and stared at him. She had the biggest, greenest eyes he’d ever seen. In those eyes Saren saw fear, confusion, sorrow, and- 

_Survival._

“I told them to go away,” the girl whispered. She stared at the bodies, apparently unmoved. “They wouldn’t go away. So I had to make them. I didn’t want to. I told them. I _told_ them.”

Saren looked back towards the bodies. Three armed batarian pirates beaten to death by a human child. With a _shovel_. Had he not seen it for himself, he would not have believed it. He looked towards the girl. “What’s your name?”

“Jane,” she said. She pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “Jane Shepard.” 

He stood and looked her over. His opinion of humans had only decreased the more he had seen of them. After Desolas- no, he would not think of that. Desolas was mad. And perhaps Saren had been too hard on this species. This would have been impressive for a turian child, who would have been trained to fight from the moment they could walk. Human children, as far as he knew, were given no special instruction until well into their adolescence. Odds were this girl was acting on pure instinct.

What was the saying?

_Spectres are born, not made._

Saren hesitated, then held out his hand to Jane. “I’m Saren. I’m not here to hurt you.”

She looked at his hand, then met his eyes. She was skeptical. No doubt her parents had told her all about the evil, scary monsters that their people almost went to war with. But after a moment of consideration, Jane set her small little hand in his. He helped her to her feet. 

“Are you here to stop the pirates?” Jane asked, once again staring at the dead bodies.

“No,” he admitted freely. “I’m here to protect that.” He nodded towards the crate. 

Jane looked towards the crate. Then, after a moment, she looked up towards him. “What’s in it?”

“Classified,” he replied. 

“What’s that mean?” Jane made a face of confusion. Of course; she was a human child living on a colony in the ass end of nowhere. Why did he expect her to have a vocabulary that was anywhere above mediocre?

“It means it’s a secret,” Saren said. He walked over towards the crate. After punching in the code, he opened it. The batarians hadn’t managed to get into it. All of the Prothean artifacts were still there. There would be more, of course; Mindoir, as it turned out, was a goldmine for Prothean technology. And the Council wanted it. Badly. As soon as he’d determined everything was still in its proper place, Saren shut and locked it once more. “How did you get out here, Jane?”

“I ran here,” Jane said. “My brother and I play hide-and-seek here when Daddy works. I knew I could hide here.”

He frowned, glancing over at her. “Where were you when the raid started?” 

“The store,” Jane said. Ah, so she’d been at the main settlement when this mess started. It was quite the sprint from the shops to the port- he wondered how fast she’d managed it. Jane looked towards the bloody shovel. “Daddy said we needed a new tools for the planting season.” The little girl turned her eyes towards her feet. “Mommy said we’d get ice cream after.”

“Did the batarians come into the store?” Saren began scanning the perimeter, watching all of the doors. The last thing he wanted was for more batarians to show up. He didn’t think they would; they were more focused on killing and kidnapping. Batarians did love their slaves, after all. 

Jane nodded slowly. “They started shooting. And I grabbed a shovel to fight with. And I ran. I tripped outside, and one almost got me. But he just got my shoe.” She held out her shoeless foot as evidence. The sock had been turned a dusty red by the Mindoirian soil. 

Her family was most likely dead, then. Or worse. Saren had seen what batarians did to control their slaves. It wasn’t a fate he wished on anyone. 

“So you ran here, hid…and those three batarians found you.” Yes, it was all becoming clear now. They wouldn’t have even thought to have drawn their guns. Why would they? She was just a child. 

Jane nodded again.

Suddenly, the main door opened. Three humans stormed in, their guns drawn. When they saw Saren, however, they slowly lowered their weapons. They knew who he was, and they knew they didn’t want to mess with a Spectre.

“What happened here?” one of the humans asked.

He looked towards Jane. Her eyes widened fearfully. After a moment he realized she was afraid to tell them that she’d killed the batarians. Perhaps she thought she would get in trouble; she was obviously old enough to know what she’d done. It was an unfounded fear, but she was a child. And there was no time to explain the concept of self-defense. So he looked towards the humans and said, “I found these three threatening the little one. I took care of it.”

Jane rushed towards him and wrapped her arms around his legs in a tight hug. It took Saren by surprise, as well as the humans. To them, perhaps, it was gratitude for ‘rescuing’ her. To him, however, it was something else. It could be a sudden show of trust, or even a thank you for lying for her. Or this little girl was playing into the story to defend her own innocence. Either way, Saren found himself smiling. 

*

Once the shipment was safely off Mindoir, Saren made his way back to the main settlement. The humans had taken Jane to go find her family- a fruitless endeavor, but he knew better than to say so. 

The town was beginning to pick up the pieces when he arrived at the square. There were bodies lined up and covered with sheets, tarps, whatever they could find. Store windows were smashed. Thermal clips lay on the ground. Human families clustered together and cried. Others ran through the crowd, shouting names, trying to find their loved ones. 

In the midst of all the chaos, Jane sat there in silence. She’d found a quiet spot in front of a store and had taken to sitting in the doorway. Her green eyes scanned the crowd resolutely, as though she already knew she would not find what she was looking for. 

Saren walked over and sat down beside her. “Did you find your family?”

Jane pointed wordlessly towards the bodies lining the square. 

“Ah.” He’d expected as much. And from the look on her face, he knew she did too. Saren got to his feet again. “Stay here.”

She only nodded.

It took him almost an hour to find someone willing to talk to him. And it took another thirty minutes after that to find someone that could tell him what would happen to Jane. Finally he was directed to the settlement’s mayor, a woman that the others all referred to as Asha. 

Asha regarded him with skepticism as he approached. “What is it? We have a lot to deal with as it is, if you can’t tell.”

“I noticed,” Saren replied. He nodded his head towards Jane. She had remained in the doorway of the shop, just as she was told. “What’s going to happen to her? Her family was killed in the attack.”

Asha looked towards Jane, and her expression softened. “Shit…I didn’t know the Shepards didn’t make it.” She paused. “What about her brother? She had a twin-”

“Gone, I believe,” Saren said. 

The mayor sighed and crossed her arms. “Damned batarians- they just turned seven. They killed a fucking _child_ …”

He was beginning to lose his patience. “What will happen to her?”

“I don’t know, ok? I don’t think Hannah or Alexei had any family. She’ll probably be sent to an orphanage on Earth somewhere,” Asha said. She glanced over at the little girl forlornly. “It’d be better for her to get off this planet.” 

An orphanage. He’d heard of such places. They were an alien concept to turians. Historically, if a child was orphaned, they would be raised by their clan. Clans were expected to take in these children, no matter how distantly related they might be. There were many things to be said about his people. They were militaristic and difficult to please. But they did not abandon their young. Why humans seemed so eager to toss their own children aside and forget about them was beyond him.

He looked towards Jane. All that potential, wasted. Unless…

“In an orphanage she’d be up for adoption, correct?” Saren asked, still looking towards Jane. 

“I guess-”

“Perfect.”

*

Unsurprisingly, Saren met a great deal of resistance from the human government when he attempted to adopt Jane. But he was prepared for this. The story was passed on to an up-and-coming asari journalist, who blasted it all over the newsfeeds. Saren only had to watch as the media circus unfolded. 

The humans were insulted; many felt as though the galactic community was trying to tell them how to conduct their own business. Others said letting a turian adopt a human child would guarantee future abuse or mistreatment. They weren’t the only ones angry about it, however. When he went to the turian Registry to inform them of the possible adoption, they refused to add a human’s name to the records for clan Arterius. The phrases ‘corrupting the bloodline’ and ‘defaming your clan’s name’ were tossed at him quite often. 

Others cried racism. Saren, they said, had done nothing to show he would be an unfit parent. He was financially stable, a Spectre, and an esteemed soldier in the turian Hierarchy. There was very little for anyone to criticize other than his species. Round and round the debate went for months on end.

Finally, after a year of arguing, media coverage, and heated debates, Saren signed on the dotted line. Little Jane Shepard became Jane Arterius, the first human to ever be adopted by a turian.

He waited for her at the docks of the Citadel. Throughout all of this chaos, he had not been permitted to see her. But as soon as she came into view – bag slung over her shoulder, holding her social worker’s hand – she smiled. She dropped her luggage and ran straight to him. Her small arms wrapped around his legs in a tight hug. Saren smiled slightly and set his hand on the top of her head. He was pleased her reaction was so…positive. Part of him hadn’t even expected her to remember who he was. 

The reporters that had turned up to cover the momentous event began to snap pictures. Jane glanced at them and frowned. She looked up at Saren. “Can we go home now?”

Saren nodded. He took her bag from her social worker. And, together, they set off for his apartment.


	2. Restless Dreamer

“And this is your room,” Saren said. The lights came on automatically, illuminating what used to be the guest bedroom of his apartment. It had been transformed to suit the needs of an eight-year-old human girl. Most of her clothes had been sent ahead of her, and they now lined the closet. He’d gotten a large bed that she could grow into, and even a couple of toys. (All educational of course.) Jane looked around in awe. She stepped into the room slowly, then immediately went to the window. It overlooked the Presidium, and she could see the lake sparkling in the artificial sunlight.

“This is _mine_?” Jane asked. 

Saren nodded. “Yes.”

Her green eyes widened. Then, she grinned. She threw her bag on to the bed and jumped up beside it, giggling. “I’ve never had my own room! I always had to share-”

The smile slipped from her face almost instantly. She stared up at the ceiling, her joy turning to melancholy in an instant. It was almost startling to watch. But Saren said nothing. He simply stood in the doorway and crossed his arms.

“…I miss my brother,” Jane said finally. 

Saren let out a sigh. He walked over and sat beside her on the bed. “I lost a brother too, once.”

Her eyes, now brimming with tears, flickered towards him. “You did?”

He nodded. 

Jane sat up and wiped at her eyes. “What was his name?”

“Desolas,” he said. 

“What happened to him?” Jane stared up at him. 

Some might have found it easier to lie to her, but Saren never saw the point in shielding children from the truth. His father had never lied to him or his brother; and they turned out the better for it. So why should he lie to Jane? Saren sighed and said, “I had to leave him behind on a mission.”

It took her a moment to process this. “So he died because you left him?” 

Saren nodded. 

“Why’d you have to leave him?” There was no judgment in her face or in her voice. She was just curious. 

“The needs of the many outweigh those of the few,” Saren said. He paused. “Do you know what that means, Jane?”

She shook her head.

“It means that sometimes you have to do things that hurt some people- but are good for many others,” Saren explained. He watched her face, trying to read the expressions crossing over her human features. “Sometimes it’s difficult. Leaving Desolas behind was one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make.”

“I left John,” she said. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “That wasn’t good for anyone else.” She looked down. “Just me.”

Saren frowned. “Never regret surviving, Jane.”

“…do you regret leaving Desolas behind?” she asked.

A good question. Desolas was mad. What he was doing- it would have doomed their species. And he was so far gone there was no reasoning with him. But they were still brothers. They’d grown up together. It was Desolas who comforted him when their mother passed and their father was too caught up in his own grief to notice his sons’ pain. It was Desolas who taught him how to shoot and fight in those summers on Palaven. But in the end, he could barely recognize his own brother. The Monolith had twisted him. Turned him into a monster. 

“No,” he said finally. “The person I left behind wasn’t my brother anymore.” 

Jane was silent. Then, still without saying anything, she crawled her way into his lap. She set her head against his carapace and wrapped her arms around him best she could. Saren didn’t know what to do. He simply sat there, staring down at her. 

“I’m sorry about your brother, Daddy,” she mumbled into his shirt.

 _Daddy._ That word struck a nerve. He was legally her father, yes- but he wasn’t actually. Her father was dead, buried on Mindoir in a cheap coffin. Saren frowned and gently lifted her off of his lap. “I’m not your daddy; your daddy is gone. I’m Saren. Just Saren. Alright?”

There was confusion in her eyes. And perhaps…hurt? “The Ms. Hyung said you were my new daddy.”

“Ms. Hyung? Your social worker?” She nodded. Saren frowned again. “Well, she’s wrong. I’m not your daddy, Jane; I’m Saren. I’m going to take care of you, train you, raise you. But I’m not your father. Do you understand?”

“I…guess so,” Jane said slowly. She looked away. And for the rest of the evening, the look in her big green eyes haunted him.

*

Several hours after sending Jane to bed, Saren was just beginning to settle in for the night. Turian beds were drastically different than those of humans, asari, or salarians. They all slept lying down; and while they could sleep like that (uncomfortable as it may be), turians preferred to crouch. Their beds resembled padded nests more than anything else. Saren leaned against one of the sides of the bed, letting out a tired sigh. 

His eyes had been closed perhaps one minute when he heard the doors of his room open. Instinctively he reached for the pistol he kept hidden in between the cushions. 

“Saren?” a small voice said. It was then he saw the small silhouette in the doorway, clutching on to one of the few toys she kept from Mindoir. 

He sighed, slipping the pistol back into its hiding place. “What is it, Jane?”

“…I had a bad dream,” she said. She shuffled her feet nervously. 

“And?” 

“…can I sleep with you?”

Oh, for the spirits’ sake. The child was eight years old; Saren had stopped this nonsense when he was four, at the oldest. Turian parents were quick to nip this sort of habit in the bud. “Your dreams can’t hurt you, Jane. Go back to bed.”

Jane remained rooted in the doorway. “Please?” She paused. “It’s lonely in my room.”

Saren let out a sigh. Something told him she wasn’t going to let this go; this was a habit he’d have to break her of slowly. Besides; he was far too tired to sit there and argue with her. “Just this once. Come on.”

“Thank you!” She scampered into the room, then paused when she saw his bed. For a moment she seemed bewildered. Then Jane climbed up over the walls and stumbled into the center of the ‘nest’. Once she was settled, she spoke again: “Your bed is weird.”

“This is how turians sleep,” he said, leaning back against the cushions. “How they prefer to, anyway.”

“You don’t sleep with any blankets?” Jane asked.

“It’s very warm on Palaven,” he said, shutting his eyes.

“What about on the colonies?” 

“We mostly colonize warm garden worlds. Turians don’t like the cold.”

“Why not?”

“We’re what you’d call ‘cold-blooded.’”

“I thought you said you didn’t like the cold?”

“Spirits, Jane, go to sleep.” 

That shut her up for a little bit, at least. Saren felt her shift slightly beside him, but otherwise she was still and quiet. He began to drift off to sleep. Tomorrow was going to be an early morning. He had to get her enrolled in school, had to take her to the doctor to make sure she was properly vaccinated (who knows what kind of medical care human colonies have), and a million other things. But it’d be worth it, one day. 

Jane Arterius, the first human Spectre. 

But just as Saren was about to fall asleep, she spoke again.

“Saren?” 

He lifted his head, which was beginning to droop down against his carapace. “What is it, Jane?” 

“Do you ever get bad dreams?” she asked. 

This was exactly the reason his father had always sent him and Desolas back to their own rooms whenever they tried to pull this. It was impossible to get any rest with a child in the bed. He let out an irritated sigh. “Go to sleep, Jane.”

“That’s not an answer,” Jane said.

“Everyone gets them,” he replied, letting his head droop again. “They’re a part of life.”

“What are yours about?” 

A question for the ages, that. Ever since the incident with the Monolith and Desolas, he’d had strange dreams. He saw his brother’s super-soldiers, he heard the screams of a turian child, he felt as though something were watching him. The dreams were indescribable, and very rarely made sense. “I don’t know. Whispers of different things.”

“Mine are about batarians,” Jane said quietly. “I dreamed they came into the apartment and they killed you and they wanted to take me away.”

Even in his exhaustion, he scoffed at the idea that a couple of pirates and slavers could kill him. “That won’t happen anytime soon, Jane.”

“It’s still scary,” she said. “You saved me. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

The concern in her voice was evident. And it surprised him. Saren raised his head and glanced at her tiny little form beside him. “You think I saved you?”

“You didn’t tell them I murdered those pirates,” she said. “I would have gotten in trouble.”

Saren yawned, and his mandibles flared involuntarily. “Remind me to tell you about self-defense tomorrow. Some people deserve to get beaten to death with a shovel.” He paused. “And I didn’t save you. You saved yourself. Remember that, Jane.”

“It’s not just that,” she insisted. “You adopted me. I hated the orphanage. And foster care. My foster parents were mean. So were the other kids.”

Over the course of her lengthy adoption he’d become very familiar with both systems. They seemed archaic and inefficient to him. He was glad he’d pulled her out of it; no doubt she would have ended up physically and mentally scarred by the whole ordeal otherwise. “I didn’t want to see your potential go to waste; you’re going to do great things, Jane.”

“I am?” She seemed bewildered. 

“You are,” Saren said. He yawned again. “Now _please_ , go to sleep.”

She shifted again so that her head was resting on one of his legs. “…good night, Saren.” 

“Good night, Jane.”

And with that, they were both asleep.


	3. Protectors

Saren didn’t realize how small Jane was until she was standing in the gun range, unable to properly see the targets. He stood back and looked at her with amusement. She’d just arrived home from school when he decided it was time for her first shooting lesson. So Jane was still dressed in her school uniform, pointing the (unloaded) pistol down the range. Saren knelt and straightened one of her arms. “Like that, Jane.”

She nodded, adjusting her aim. Her face was deathly serious. It almost made him laugh.

“Here; I’ll show you how to load it,” Saren said. She looked at him eagerly, a big smile spreading across her freckled face. Saren instructed her in the proper way to load a thermal clip and stressed the importance of trigger discipline. “Don’t put your trigger on the finger unless you intend to shoot. Understand?”

Jane nodded. “Yes, Saren.”

At least she listened. Jane had been living with him for scarcely over a month now. She’d settled in well; she was attending school at Lendai Academy (The most prestigious school on the Citadel) and was doing well. At home, Jane was obedient and fairly independent. She could make her own meals and put herself to bed just fine. Saren was grateful for that; he wasn’t exactly a homemaker. 

He glanced down the range. He pulled up a screen and adjusted the holographic targets so that they were on Jane’s level. Saren nodded to her. “Try it out.”

Jane stared at him for a moment with those big green eyes of her. She glanced at the now loaded pistol in her hands. “Really?”

“Really,” Saren said. “How can you be a proper soldier if you can’t shoot?”

Jane considered this for a moment, then aimed the gun at one of the targets. 

“Arms straight,” Saren said.

She adjusted them herself. Good. Hopefully next time he wouldn’t have to correct her. He’d better not, anyway; Saren did not like to repeat himself. He watched as she fired- once, twice, three times. The targets did not register a hit. She went through an entire clip without even coming close to getting a shot in.

Saren frowned. This would be harder than previously thought; at his first shooting lesson, he’d picked it up almost instantly. He handed her another thermal clip after she’d emptied the first. Jane remembered how to load the clip by herself, at least. That was something. 

When she raised the gun again, her arms were straight.

 _Better_ , he thought.

But she still could not seem to hit the targets. After emptying half the clip he said, “Stop.”

Jane froze and lowered the gun. He knelt beside her and moved her arms up once more. “I want you to look at those targets. And I want you to pretend they’re batarians.”

Her eyes widened. She looked down the range, as though trying to visualize four batarians standing in front of her. She bit her lip. Her finger hovered over the trigger, but it was as though Jane suddenly couldn’t bring herself to do it. 

Saren pushed it further. “Pretend they’re batarians and they’re coming into the apartment- you told them to go away. And they’re not listening.” 

He watched as a transformation seemed to take place in Jane’s eyes. The hesitation in her eyes seemed to steadily fade. Determination rose up in its place, along with something else Saren couldn’t place. Anger, perhaps? Hatred? It was so hard to read her sometimes.

Jane fired. The targets lit up, registering hits. Her aim was unsteady – she only got one kill shot – but almost every shot she fired hit its mark. No one would have been able to walk away from that.

Saren let out a pleased hum despite himself. Jane looked up at him with her bright eyes, eager for his approval. He set his hand on top of her head. “Not bad.”

A grin spread across her face, and Saren found himself smiling, too. 

“That anger you have is a useful tool,” Saren said, inspecting the scores on one of the screens. Three of her four targets would have been dead, or at least mortally wounded. “The pains of today are the strengths of tomorrow.”

“…but I wasn’t angry,” Jane said. She blinked up at him in confusion.

He looked down at her. “You weren’t?”

“No.” Jane looked down the gun range. “You said pretend they were the batarians, but I didn’t want to hurt them. I just wanted to protect you.” 

Saren stared at her. “Protect me?”

“You said to imagine them coming into the apartment,” Jane said. She looked up at him. “I didn’t want them to hurt you.”

That determination, that look in her eyes- it didn’t stem from hatred. It had its roots in affection. Family. Love.

It was in that moment Saren realized what sort of soldier she would be. Jane was not a killer. She was not ruthless. She was a guardian. A protector. She was the type who would do anything to protect those around her- no matter the cost.

Saren made a mental note of this. It would be important in her future training. But for the time being, however, she still needed to get used to using a gun. He handed her another thermal clip for her to load into the gun. He knelt beside her. “Very well then; protect me.”

Jane raised the pistol and began to fire. 

*

They left the gun range a bit later into the evening than Saren had previously intended. Jane had done well. Not as well as he’d hoped, but not every child could be a natural shot. (Perhaps it had to do with her being human; turian children were trained to be warriors from birth.) As they walked back towards their apartment on the Presidium, Jane reached up and tugged on his hand.

“Saren? I’m hungry,” she said. 

Oh, right. Neither of them had eaten. As soon as she got home from school, he’d taken her to the gun range to begin her lessons. Saren frowned. “We’ll pick up something on the way.”

Not long after he spotted a small diner. The sign said they served both dextro and levo food. Good enough for him. He led Jane inside and they were seated in one of the booths. Moments later an asari waitress flounced over to them. She smiled brightly at them, but Saren could see she was confused. Why was there a turian with a human child? Where were her parents? But she didn’t ask. She just handed them their respective menus and asked for their drink orders.

“Water for both of us,” he said.

“Coming right up,” she said. With that, she was gone.

Jane frowned slightly. “I wanted Coke.”

“Those kinds of drinks are horrible for you, Jane,” Saren said, looking over the menu. “Your body is a temple. You have to do all you can to keep it healthy.”

She huffed and looked at the menu. By the time the waitress came back with their water – which took entirely too long, in his opinion – Saren was ready to order. As the asari set down their drinks, Jane looked up at her with a slightly disgruntled expression.

“Do you have any human food?” she asked. 

The asari waitress considered for a moment, then reached over and flipped to the back of Jane’s menu. “We’ve started serving ‘hamburgers’. Would you like one of those?”

Jane grinned and nodded. “Can I get one with everything on it?”

The asari didn’t seem to know what exactly that meant, but she typed it into her pad anyway. Then she glanced towards Saren. After he ordered she went off towards the kitchen again. It occurred to him then that he had no idea what Jane had ordered, or whether or not it was any good for her. He’d have to educate himself on human nutrition; it was imperative Jane grow up healthy and strong.

“How are your classes?” Saren asked, looking over at Jane. 

“Good,” she said. She was swinging her legs underneath the table and hitting her side of the booth. 

Something about her tone gave him pause. “Are you caught up on all your schoolwork?”

“Yes,” she said. She sipped at her water. She was avoiding his eyes; Saren had noticed humans placed value on eye contact. When Jane avoided looking at him, it meant she was hiding something.

“What did you make on your galactic history test?” he persisted.

“I passed,” she said. 

“Passing isn’t good enough, Jane. We’ve discussed this.”

“I know. I’ll do better, Saren, I promise.”

But yet he felt as though she were still hiding something. He wished that humans had sub-harmonics; it would have made her mood much easier to read. Saren tilted his head. “There’s something bothering you.”

“No,” Jane said, rather unconvincingly. 

“Don’t lie to me, Jane. I interrogate people for a living,” Saren told her.

She frowned. “I thought you killed bad guys?”

“I do both,” he said. “Now, what’s the matter?”

Jane looked down. “A lot of the other kids keep teasing me at school. There’s only two other humans at the Academy and they don’t like me.” She frowned. 

“Why don’t they like you?” Saren asked.

“Cause I’m a colonist and I’m stupider than everyone else there,” Jane said. She cast her eyes downward. 

Saren opened his mouth to correct her grammar, then closed it. He doubted it would help much at this moment. But before he could say anything, the asari brought over their food. And Saren learned what exactly a ‘hamburger’ was.

It was two slabs of meat in between two slices of bread. It was piled high with vegetables and spirits knows what else. Altogether it was about as big as Jane’s head. All Saren could do was stare as his adoptive daughter in complete shock. There was no way that this eight-year-old human child could put away that meal.

And yet, she did.

It was amazing to watch, really. He barely touched his own meal from the shock. Then, as she was licking her fingers, he started to chuckle. It was unbelievable. This child who barely came up to his waist just ate a meal that even _he_ would have trouble finishing. Saren shook his head, and Jane stared at him in confusion.

“Do all human children have the appetite of a thresher maw?” he asked, his mandibles flared in amusement.

“Yup!” Jane said brightly. She smiled.

Saren chuckled. He paused for a moment, thinking on Jane’s teasing problem. He’d been teased occasionally when he was a child; on Palaven, your clan was everything. And clan Arterius was not always a proud bloodline. But his mother – firm and resolute as steel – had taught him to keep his head held high. 

As his chuckle died, he looked towards her. “School will be difficult for you for some time. You’re an outsider right now, Jane. It’s not going to be easy.”

“I know,” she said.

“Just keep your head up,” Saren said. He never thought he’d ever be sitting there in some cheap diner on the Presidium, echoing his mother’s words to his human daughter. “You’re an Arterius now. No Arterius lets someone shame them for who they are. Never forget that.”

Jane smiled. And she said, sincerity in her voice: “I won’t.”


	4. Whispers

Shore leave was over.

Saren had been given another assignment- his first since Jane had come to live with him. In truth he was partially relieved. Sitting on the Citadel made him antsy. He was itching to go out and do something- even though that meant leaving Jane behind. It wasn’t as though she were unsafe; he had plenty of contacts on the Citadel. While he was gone he’d have every undeployed Spectre on the Citadel watching the apartment, as well as someone to come check in on her periodically. 

When she arrived home from school that afternoon, Saren was almost ready to leave. He’d already gotten the supplies he needed from the Spectre quartermaster; he had enough ammo to blow away an entire platoon if he so desired. 

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, and a smile spread across her face.

“Saren! Saren you won’t guess what happened!” she cried as she hurried through the front door. She wrapped her arms around his legs in a hug, and Saren set his hand on the top of her head. “I made some friends!”

His mandibles flared slightly, and he tilted to his head to one side. “Oh, really? Who?”

“Vellia Sylnius and Tulea Adacius!” Jane was practically bouncing with excitement.

Saren recognized both of those clan names; General Rutiana Sylnius was well-known for her exploits during the Relay 314 Incident. And Tulea Adacius was no doubt the daughter of Councilor Tulio Adacius. Quite the friends indeed. But that was part of the reason he sent her to the Academy to begin with; the friendships she made now would help her advance her career when the galaxy’s best and brightest children began to grow. 

“I’m glad you made some friends, Jane,” he said, rubbing the top of her head.

“Can they come over tomorrow?” she asked excitedly. “Pretty please? We’ll be good, I promise!”

Saren let out a sigh. “Not tomorrow, Jane- I’m actually going to be going away for a bit.”

The happiness on Jane’s face faded quickly. She stared up at him in confusion. Spirits, he hated it when she looked at him like that. How did humans’ eyes manage to be so much more expressive than turians’? He could look into her big green eyes and see everything: her fear, her sadness, her happiness, her anger. It unnerved him.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

He knelt down. “I told you; I kill bad guys for a living. I’m a Spectre.”

“And you interrogate them,” Jane added quietly.

“And I interrogate them, yes. I have to keep the galaxy safe,” he said. “So I’m going to be gone for a little bit.”

Jane seemed to understand this. She listened and nodded slowly. She glanced down. “When will you be back?”

He paused. There was never any telling with Spectre missions. Saren was typically able to wrap his up faster than most- generally because he took the more ‘direct’ approach on many matters. But missions could still be months-long ordeals. “I’m not certain. I’ve arranged to have someone check up on you until I get back.”

She looked back up at him. “What are you going to be doing?”

“That’s classified, Jane; I can’t tell you,” he said. “It’s safer for you if you don’t know anything.”

“Safer?” Jane quirked an eyebrow.

“Don’t worry about it,” Saren said, shaking his head. He hoped this mission would be a quick one. There was a radical human group – Cerberus – that had been making trouble recently in the past couple of years. The Council had decided it was time to get better acquainted with them. A simple recon mission- get the info, get out. 

“When are you leaving?” she asked.

He hesitated. “Today.”

Spirits, the look in her eyes. It was like he’d smacked her. But all she said was, “Wait a minute.”

Saren watched, still kneeling, as she ran over to the coffee table and set her backpack down on top of it. She dug through it for a moment, then ran back over to him. She offered something to him- a drawing. On actual paper. 

It was a picture of them, carefully drawn and colored. They were holding hands and smiling. She’d had trouble drawing him, as she obviously wasn’t used to doodling turians. It looked as though she’d taken great pains to get everything right, however. Hovering next to the little red-haired girl on the page was the word ‘ME’ with an arrow pointing towards her, and beside him was ‘SAIREN’, also helpfully accompanied by an arrow.

Saren couldn’t help but smile.

“Do you like it?” Jane asked, clasping her hands behind her back. 

“It’s very nice, Jane,” he said, rubbing the top of her head. He folded the picture and tucked it into his armor. “Thank you.”

Suddenly she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Come back safe.”

At first he was shocked by the sudden lunge towards his neck, and he’d moved to block her. He hesitated. Then he slowly set his hand on her back. “I will. I promise.”

*

Get in, get out. That had been the plan.

Well, _that_ hadn’t worked out.

Saren knelt behind a cluster of crates. The hallway was filled with the sound of gunfire. He could hear Cerberus agents shouting orders- they were going to attempt to trap him in. The whole situation reminded him vaguely of when he was growing up on Palaven. One summer day he’d accidentally knocked down a krioksius nest. The insects had swarmed him, their huge needle-like stingers had jabbed in between his plates and chased him all the way to his family’s home. Desolas had saved him by throwing water on him; krioksius couldn’t get their wings wet under any circumstances. They’d dropped to the ground, helpless, while Desolas hurried Saren inside to treat the stings.

_No brother to save you this time. Because of humans like them._

The thought seemed to come from nowhere, and it ignited a fury deep in his chest. With a snarl he tossed a grenade over his makeshift cover. The humans reacted a half second too late, and he heard screaming after the detonation.

He risked peering up. Most of the humans were dead- but there were a couple of stragglers. Good. 

Saren vaulted from his cover and walked to the nearest living human. She was mostly unhurt; just stunned. As he neared she reached for her gun. Saren stepped on it, then kicked it across the hall. He wrapped a hand around her neck and lifted her up. “You’re going to tell me where the main office is, or I’m going to break every single bone in your body. Do you understand?”

The woman clawed at his hands, choking and gasping.

He squeezed her neck. “Do you understand?”

The woman did her best to nod.

Saren dropped her. The woman fell to her knees, clutching her throat. He allowed her to sit there and heave for a few moments. Then, when his patience began to wear thin, he yanked her to her feet by the back of her uniform.

“Walk,” he said, pointing his pistol at her head.

“I’m going,” the woman gasped. “I’m going.”

She led him through the facility; there were a couple more encounters with Cerberus agents, but Saren dispatched of them quickly. They froze when they saw his hostage, and he used that moment of hesitation to his advantage. 

“You’re a fucking monster,” the woman whispered as she stepped over one of the bodies.

“Move,” he growled.

She led him into a room towards the center of the facility. Saren pointed his gun at her, then towards the computer. The woman obeyed the silent command; she keyed in her info, and stepped back. Saren began to transfer the information on to his omni-tool. It would also automatically send itself to his private terminal, and the terminal within the Spectre office. 

He skimmed the information as it downloaded. Even without intense analysis, it was worrying- Migrant Fleet movements, intensive studies into dextro diseases, geth activity within the Veil, profiles of prominent humans who were secretly or publicly partnered with a member of another species, and-

_Jane Shepard._

His mandibles flared in shock, and he looked towards the human. “What’s this about Jane Shepard?”

“The human girl that was adopted by that turian,” the woman said. She stared at him for a moment. Then, her eyes widened in realization. “Jesus Christ- adopted by _you_.”

Saren grabbed her and slammed her head on to the desk. “What do they want with her?!”

The woman let out a cry and gritted her teeth. “To take her back! We’re going to put her with a human family. Get her away from you!” She looked up at him, her eyes furious. “What does a monster like you know about raising a little girl? About raising a _human_?! She deserves her own people!”

_You can’t let them. Protect her. You have to protect her._

He thought of Jane. Her smile, her big green eyes, her freckled cheeks. He thought of how accustomed he’d become to helping her fix her breakfast in the morning and listening to the _pit-pat_ of her bare feet on the floor of his apartment. He thought of the drawing tucked into his armor- a reminder that he had a reason to get back safely.

“No one is taking my daughter away from me,” he growled. “Especially not you.”

He pressed his pistol to her head, and fired.

*

When he returned to the apartment, it was the middle of the night cycle. The apartment was dark and silent when he entered, more exhausted than he had been since his first mission as a Spectre. 

He went to Jane’s room first. But when he peered in, he didn’t see her tiny figure curled up underneath the sheets. 

_They took her._

“Jane?” he said. Saren turned on the light. The room was neat. Bed made, toys in their proper places. Her school uniform was set out, ready to be put on in the morning. But Jane was missing. “JANE?!”

_THEY TOOK HER._

Saren rushed to his room. Oh, he’d find them. He’d find them, he’d kill them, he’d tear them apart. They wouldn’t keep her from him. They wouldn’t- 

As he turned on the light, he heard a small moan. Saren froze.

In his bed was Jane. She was curled up on the cushions, a blanket wrapped around her. She blinked in the light and rubbed her eyes sleepily. “Saren?”

Oh, thank the spirits.

“What are you doing in here, Jane?” he demanded, walking towards his bed.

Jane sat up. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep. “I had a bad dream, and I got scared. So I came in here.” She pulled her knees up to her chest. “It feels safer in here.”

He let out a sigh and climbed into his bed. With a snap of his fingers the lights shut back off. She was safe. That was all that mattered. As he settled in, Jane curled up beside him. She set her head on his carapace. “I missed you a lot, Saren.”

“I missed you too, Jane,” he said, sleepily rubbing the top of her head.

“It’s scary when you’re gone,” she said quietly. “I feel like those batarians are gonna come get me.”

Saren frowned to himself. He would have to deal with them. Jane and her family deserved some vengeance. “I’ll protect you, Jane. No one is going to hurt you.”

“Mm.” She was already asleep again, her tiny little fingers clutching on to his shirt. Soon the only sound was her even breathing. For a time Saren just sat there and listened to her. Cerberus wanted to take her away. She’d be given to some human family on an obscure human colony. She’d go to a mediocre school and receive little to no combat training; her future would be dim. Saren couldn’t allow that. Turian or not, _he_ was what was best for her. If he had to hunt down every last Cerberus agent himself to keep her safe, he would.

“No one,” he whispered, wrapping one arm protectively around her.

_Anything to keep her safe._

_Anything._


	5. Thicker Than Water

The last ten minutes of school always seemed to go by the slowest.

Jane sat at her desk, tapping impatiently at the holoscreen projected by it. Their teacher, Professor Zozik, prowled between their desks to ensure they were still doing their work. He paused beside Jane’s desk, his eyes flitting over her screen. Jane focused on her math problems. It was one of her weaker subjects, so she’d spent each night for the past month practicing. She hoped to surprise Saren with an exemplary grade when he got back. 

“…nice work, Jane,” Professor Zozik said. “You’ve improved.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said quietly.

With that he walked away. A small message popped up in the corner of her holoscreen. The messaging system on the school computers was typically only meant for school-wide announcements and teacher comments, but Netan had hacked it for note-passing purposes by the third day of school. 

_T: Did Zozik just give you a compliment?_

Jane smiled. She glanced over her shoulder to ensure Zozik wasn’t looking, then quickly tapped out a reply.

_J: Guess so._

_T: Call the Council; I think the world is about to end._

_L: No need to bring your dad into this._

_T: Shut up Daia._

Jane didn’t manage to contain her snicker. Zozik’s head snapped towards her, but she was saved by the soft bing over the school-wide intercom that denoted the start of the end-of-the-day announcements. Jane quickly closed out her holoscreen and began packing up her things. 

“Don’t forget, you have an essay due tomorrow!” Zozik shouted over the announcements and clatter of twenty children rushing to leave. “I want it messaged to me by the start of class tomorrow, not a second later!”

Jane shouldered her backpack and began to hurry out. 

“Ms. Arterius- a word.”

 _Crap._ So close.

Lutadaia and Tulea cast her a look from the doorway. They glanced at each other, then her, hesitating. She motioned for them to go. They gave her a small nod, and a small jerk of Tulea’s head told her that they’d be waiting for her with Netan and Vellia in the hall. They cleared out with the rest of the class, till Jane was standing in an empty classroom with her bag hanging awkwardly off one shoulder. She slowly walked towards the professor’s desk, biting her lip.

Zozik stood behind his desk, logging off of his own holoscreen. “No need to give me that look, Jane; you aren’t in trouble.”

“…I’m not?” She frowned.

“No. Quite the opposite.” He closed out his holoscreen and looked at her. “When you first came to this school, I had my doubts. All of us did. But you’ve come a long way these past couple of years. I’m very proud.”

Jane could only stare at him in shock. Eventually she managed to stammer out, “Th-Thank you sir.”

“I’ve recommended you for the Honors program,” Zozik continued. “If the Dean believes you are capable, you will be placed in advanced classes next semester.”

“…really?” Jane gaped at him. Getting into the Honors classes was, of course, one of her long-term goals. Saren had made that much explicitly clear. But she didn’t think she was anywhere close to being nominated. “I…thank you sir. Thank you!”

“You did the work, Jane, not me,” Zozik said dismissively. “Now go on; your friends are anxiously awaiting your return, I am sure.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. Jane rushed out of the classroom and down the hall. Tulea, Lutadaia, Vellia, and Netan all stared at her expectantly as she approached. Before Jane could open her mouth to speak, Netan spoke up. 

“She was nominated for the Honors program,” she said matter-of-factly.

Jane frowned. “How’d you know?”

“What other reason would he keep you, if you were not in trouble?” Netan shrugged. 

“That’s awesome, Jane!” Vellia grinned, her mandibles flaring wide. “You’ll get to be in classes with me and Netan now!”

“And then there were two,” Lutadaia said, shaking her head. “Now me and Tulea are gonna be alone next semester. How’s she gonna put up with me alone?”

“Spirits only know,” Tulea replied. She shouldered her bag. “Congrats, though. You’ve earned it Jane.” She grinned. “Wanna go celebrate? My dad said we could go get a treat after school! He gave me creds and everything.” 

Jane smiled slightly. “I want to, but I can’t. My dad’s gone and he’s having someone watch the apartment for when I come home.”

“…you realize how creepy that sounds, right?” Lutadaia asked.

“Well, not all of our fathers can be actors,” Netan said. She quirked a smile. 

Lutadaia let out a groan. “For the spirits’ sake, shut up!”

“I can’t help it!” Jane raised her hands in submission. “He’s a Spectre and like…crazy protective. Last time I was late getting home he thought I’d gotten murdered or something.”

“You _are_ his only child,” Netan said. “Though not biologically. Interesting, really, you aren’t even the same species. It’s easy to see why a turian might become attached to a turian child – it is at least of the same kind. But humans aren’t even-”

“Oh- _kay_ , that’s enough of the science talk, Netan,” Tulea interjected. She set her hand on the salarian’s shoulder. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Jane.”

“See you tomorrow,” Jane replied. She smiled slightly as her friends headed off down the hall, talking all the while. After they disappeared around the corner, she shook her head and walked off. 

The way home was familiar to her- and she knew that there was undoubtedly someone tailing her the whole way. In fact she’d made a game of seeing who it was. Spectres were typically hard to spot, but if she was observant she could pick out who Saren had asked to watch her this time. But today it was a bit harder; he must have asked someone new to do it. Or they were just being very, very careful not to let Jane see them. 

Perhaps it was that salarian in the blue. She thought she’d seen him sitting in one of the shops. Or perhaps not- _that_ salarian had a slightly different skin tone. Jane glanced around. There was an asari walking about twenty feet behind her. She stopped to ‘inspect’ one of the shop windows. Nope- the asari kept walking. But someone else _did_ stop.

A human.

She paused and tried to get a better look at him out of the corner of her eye. He was your average human; dark skin, black hair that was buzzed short. He lingered in front of a nearby shop, apparently interested in whatever was in the shop window. She thought she saw him glance towards her- Jane began walking again. A couple of minutes later, she glanced back. 

He was still there.

She stopped again. This time she went to the railing, as though she were not used to all of these sights after living on the Citadel for three years. And there he was, thirty feet away, leaning on the railing and looking down at the sparkling lake. 

Why would Saren get a human to tail her? Most of his friends were other Spectres, or turians he served with back when he still was a soldier for the Hierarchy. The only human he really knew was…well, her. So who was this? Unless- unless Saren _didn’t_ know him. It was very possible he was a complete stranger. And if that was the case, Jane was in danger.

 _Don’t panic. Don’t panic- there’s a Spectre nearby. Even if you can’t find them, they’re there._ Jane calmed herself with this thought. Whoever was assigned to her wouldn’t let him do anything to her. She picked up her pace as she made her way to her apartment. Then, in a split-second decision, she turned and took a different route home. Jane darted down a narrow corridor and around a corner, then sprinted down the back alleys. These paths were generally only used by the Keepers; Jane actually had to dart around one as she ran. But they were an easy way to navigate for people who were small enough and knew how. 

She cut back through another alley, which let her out near her apartment complex. Jane glanced around warily, then ran for her door. As soon as she was inside she turned to lock it behind her. 

“Ah; you’re home.”

Jane almost jumped out of her skin. She turned around, instinctively moving into a fighting stance with her fists raised. Saren’s mandibles flared in mild surprise.

“…and here I thought you’d be pleased I was home early,” he said.

A grin spread across her freckled face, and she rushed forward to hug him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and laughed. “You said you wouldn’t be back for another month!”

He returned the hug with a soft chuckle. “I managed to take care of things a little faster than I’d previously thought.”

“You’ll never guess what happened today!” Jane said. It was difficult for her to contain her excitement; she bounced on her heels, a habit she knew Saren found unbecoming. But today he seemed content to let the breach in decorum pass. He only looked at her with mild amusement, waiting for her to elaborate. “Zozik nominated me for the Honors program!”

He did not seem surprised, as she’d expected. Merely pleased. He smiled and rubbed the top of her head. “It was only a matter of time; good work, Jane.”

Jane grinned. “Maybe…we can go celebrate?”

Saren considered for a moment. “…I suppose we could go to the diner for dinner tonight.” 

“Yes! Thank you!” She hugged him once more, and received another pat on the head from Saren.

“Go change,” he said, giving her a gentle push towards her room. “I don’t want you ruining another one of your uniforms.”

Jane rushed to her room and quickly changed clothes. In truth, she hated her regular clothes more than her uniform. Saren had strict rules about what she could and could not wear; and his tastes very rarely coincided with human fashion. But even an ugly sun dress couldn’t bring down her mood. As soon as she was changed, she rushed back out to meet Saren.

He was waiting in the kitchen, reading something on his omni-tool. His expression was vaguely disgruntled; when she walked in, he looked up at her. “Did you notice anyone following you today?”

“…yeah,” Jane said hesitantly. She paused at the look Saren gave her. She quickly corrected herself. “Yes. Yes, sir, I did.” 

“Who?” he demanded.

“A human. I didn’t recognize him,” she replied.

He frowned. “Sutan noticed him too. He watched you when you walked home. And so did this human, apparently. Though Sutan says you lost him.” Saren seemed to consider something for a moment. Then he shook his head, sighing. “I’ll look into it tonight. Come on; let’s go get dinner.”

Jane smiled, eager to put the strange man out of her mind. She grabbed his hand as they walked out of the apartment, knowing that, whoever the human was, she was safe now that Saren was home.

*

After a rather filling and greasy (A rare treat with Saren; he was very strict about her nutrition.) meal, they began to walk back to the apartment. 

“Tulea’s dad is going to resign from the position as Councilor,” Jane was telling him. “He said he wants to focus on her and her sister since their mom passed away.” The whole situation made her sad. She knew what it was like to lose a parent, and she’d helped Tulea through the whole ordeal as best she could. Though, secretly, Jane found it difficult to recall the face of her own mother. She, her father, and her brother were slowly drifting further and further out of her mind, like ghosts. It was just easier to not remember. It hurt less. 

“An unfortunate situation,” Saren commented. “I expect they’ll elect Sparatus Acillinus as his replacement.”

The name was vaguely familiar to Jane, but she couldn’t think of a face. “I guess. I wish Tulea’s dad didn’t have to resign.”

“We all have a duty to our families, Jane,” Saren said. He glanced down at her, his gaze almost uncharacteristically soft. “In ancient times, before the turian Hierarchy even existed, all we had was our clan. You could have friends, of course, and allies. But the only people that you could truly rely on were your own flesh and blood. And you had a duty to do whatever you had to for them, and vice versa. We still do. Sometimes that duty can supersede our duty to the people. Tulea’s father was her father long before he was the Councilor.”

Jane nodded once. Though his words reminded her of what Netan had said earlier. She and Saren weren’t flesh and blood- she wasn’t even a turian. She knew that Netan hadn’t mean to offend, and she knew that she was an Arterius whether she was human or not. But, sometimes, Jane couldn’t help but wish she was related to Saren by blood. Occasionally she imagined that she was, and that her name was Juteia or Desolaia or even Sarevea. 

They lapsed into silence for the rest of their walk. They reached their apartment within a few minutes. As soon as they stepped inside, Jane realized something was horribly wrong. The place was completely wrecked. The kitchen cabinets were all open. The couch was overturned. She could hear muffled voices talking to each other in one of the back rooms. 

“Jane, get behind me-” Saren began, reaching to push her back.

They heard the click of a gun. 

“Freeze.”


	6. Destiny of the Daughter

Saren reacted so quickly, Jane could hardly see what happened. He shoved her down on to the floor, knocking her on to her back. He turned to their attacker – a human with a pistol – and grabbed his wrist. He twisted it until it cracked into a position that no human wrist was meant to be in. The man yelped and the gun fell from his hand. It fired when it hit the ground, the shot hitting and scorching the wall. 

All Jane could think was how strange it was to hear that noise here, in their home. She was used to the sound – she went to the shooting range to practice twice a week – but she hadn’t ever imagined hearing the sound within their apartment.

Saren pulled a pistol, seemingly from nowhere, and pressed it to the man’s forehead. He fired, and Jane watched in horror as a spray of red coated the white wall. The man dropped to the floor. When she stared into his lifeless brown eyes, she recognized him as the man who had followed her from school. Jane screamed and crawled backwards, tears gathering in her eyes.

_The doors open. A bell chimes, announcing the arrival of another customer. Jane holds a package of seeds out for John to see. As he inspects the flowers displayed on the front, she sees the clerk stiffen behind the counter. There’s a BANG and a spray of red, and the clerk is on the ground-_

Three humans ran out from one of their rooms. Saren fired- once, twice. One of the strangers hit the floor. One of them fell against the arm of the couch. She coughed, blood pouring out of her mouth.

_John’s big green eyes stare at her, his hands clutching his stomach. He tries to say her name but blood bubbles up in his mouth. His hands are pressed to his shirt; it’s turning dark red, soaking the fabric. He reaches for her with one bloody red palm._

_She runs._

Another shot, and the woman on the couch was dead. She slumped to the floor. The third person fired and missed. It hit the lamp instead, shattering it and spreading broken glass all across the carpet. Saren shot him, and the man let out a pained howl and fell to one knee. As Jane got to her feet, she saw Saren grab the man by the throat.

“Wait!” the man yelled. He coughed as Saren squeezed his neck. “Wait! Don’t kill me! I’ll- I’ll tell you everything!”

“Typical,” Saren snorted. But he removed his hand from the man’s throat, settling for pointing his pistol at him. 

“If I tell you what you want to know, will you let me live?” the man asked. 

Saren’s mandibles flared slightly, and he seemed lost in contemplation. He glanced towards Jane, then back at the man. “Yes.”

Jane scarcely knew what to do. She had her back pressed against the scorch-marked wall. Shattered pieces of glass lay scattered around her feet. She stared at the dead men and woman. Their blood was beginning to soak the red carpet. Jane edged away from them, feeling the bile rise in her throat. 

_She sees Mommy and Daddy on the ground, blood pooling around them, so quiet, so still-_

“Saren,” she said helplessly, her voice shaking.

“Don’t be scared, Jane,” he said firmly. His eyes never left the human. “I have this under control.” He frowned at the man. “Talk.”

The man held up his hands in surrender. “We were sent by Cerberus- they wanted us to take her to Terra Nova. There’s a human family there that’s willing to take her.” He paused. “…you weren’t supposed to be here.”

Jane stared at him in shock. A human family? What was he talking about? She was an Arterius now. Her eyes flitted to Saren, but he said nothing. “Saren, what’s he talking about?”

He didn’t answer. “Who on Terra Nova?”

“We weren’t given names.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I swear to God, I don’t know,” he insisted. “We weren’t even going to meet them- another team was going to meet us at the docking bay on Terra Nova and take her to them. That’s all I know.”

Saren glared. “How did you know I was going to be gone?”

The man didn’t answer right away, which was a mistake. Saren grabbed his throat and slammed him into the closest wall. The man let out a strangled cry, and Jane flinched. She’d never seen Saren like this. He was stern, yes, but not…like this. Never like this. 

_“How did you know I was going to be gone?”_ Saren demanded. 

The man clawed at his hand. He choked out, “The- Illusive Man- made a distraction- knew- the Council- would send- you.”

Saren let go of the man’s throat slowly. “Is that all you know?”

“That’s all I know,” he said. 

Saren nodded once. Then Jane watched, horrified, as Saren grabbed the man’s head and jerked it. There was a snapping sound, and the man fell to the floor. It took her a minute to realize what he’d done. Her mind just couldn’t process it. She stared at the man, his eyes still wide from shock, and let out a sob. Saren’s head snapped towards her. 

“Are you hurt?” he demanded.

She shook her head, her eyes never leaving the body.

“Why are you crying?” He frowned. 

“You- you- you said you’d let him go!” she said, putting a hand to her mouth. “You lied to him, Saren!”

Saren’s expression went from concerned to exasperated. He sighed. “Jane-”

“You didn’t have to kill him!” she yelled. 

“I did!” he snapped. He walked forward, stepping over the glass that still littered the floor. “They were trying to take you from me Jane, do you understand that? They were going to take you and put you with some human family you’ve never met- all because I’m not human.” Saren frowned down at her, his eyes still burning with fury. “They will stop at nothing.”

Jane’s eyes flitted to the other dead bodies, still bleeding on the floor. “There had to be another way-”

“Jane,” he said. Saren knelt down so that they were at eye-level with each other. He grabbed her chin, turning her head to look at him. “I will destroy _anyone_ who tries to take you away from me. That is the only way I can keep you safe.”

The conviction in his eyes was unmistakable. Jane took a step back. It frightened her to see Saren like this- no, terrified her. This wasn’t the hero and brave Spectre she’d come to idolize. Jane had no idea who this was. He reached out to set a hand on her shoulder, and she flinched away.

His voice and his expression softened. “Jane…”

“Promise me you won’t do that again,” she said tearfully. 

“Jane, killing people is part of my job,” Saren said. His tone was chiding, not angry. “You can’t honestly ask me to never-”

“Only when you have to,” Jane said. “Promise me, Saren. You’ll do it only when you have to.”

For a moment she wasn’t sure he was going to say it. Then, he let out a heavy sigh. Saren leaned forward and pressed his forehead gently against hers. It was a rare display of affection, and it conveyed just how much he meant his words. “I promise, Jane.”

She bumped her forehead gently against his to return the gesture. Her eyes flickered to the dead bodies once more, and a shiver of disgust ran through her. 

*

Jane sat outside the apartment wrapped in one of her blankets. Saren stood a couple of feet away, talking to one of the C-Sec officers. Turians and asari went in and out of the apartment, passing through the holotape they’d place over the doorway. Saren had called them shortly after the incident; you couldn’t just kill several people and not mention it to C-Sec.

“Jane Shepard?” 

She looked up. One of the officers, a turian, knelt down in front of her. His plates were dark gray, and she recognized the markings. Saren had been quizzing her on all the clan tattoos, from Adatus down to Zentris. Blue, so that meant they still lived primarily on Palaven. The design was geometric, so that denoted a traditionally warrior-class family. At first she considered Dexitis or Kroatan. The markings extended on to the mandible and formed a sort of bent T-shape. So maybe Vakarian?

“I’m Officer Galverus Vakarian,” he said. “I need to ask you a few questions.”

Well, at least she had guessed right.

“Arterius,” she said.

He looked at her with confusion. “Excuse me?”

“My name is Jane _Arterius_.” She couldn’t help but feel annoyed. It took her forever to get people at the Academy to use her correct last name. The days of Jane Shepard were over forever as far as she was concerned. There was nothing left for that girl but a dead family and an abandoned farmhouse on Mindoir. 

“…right,” Officer Vakarian said. He pulled out a datapad. “I just want to get your account of what happened here.”

So she told him. It was easy to talk about, she found. It wasn’t like after the raid, when she had to talk to ten million different people about what happened and she struggled to find the words every single time. This was like it happened in a dream, to some other girl living with her turian guardian. 

And that frightened her. 

Jane didn’t falter until she reached the part about the human who had surrendered. She felt Saren’s eyes on her. What had he told the officers? Had he told them that he surrendered or not? If their stories didn’t match up…would Saren get in trouble? Would he be sent to jail? Sure, what he did was wrong. But she didn’t want to lose him. Jane bit her lip, and Officer Vakarian cleared his throat impatiently. 

“…and I got scared and closed my eyes,” she said. “I didn’t open them until Saren came over and said it was safe.” 

Officer Vakarian looked at her skeptically. “…and that’s all you saw?”

“Yes, sir,” she said. 

His mandibles flared slightly, then looked down to tap something into his datapad. “You know, Jane, I have a son around your age.”

“That’s cool,” she said, glancing over at Saren. 

“He’s not a good liar, either,” Galverus said. With that he stood up and walked towards the other officer and Saren. Jane watched, a knot forming in her stomach, as Officer Vakarian pulled his commander aside to speak with him. Saren watched them for a moment, then walked over to Jane.

“You look worried,” he said, offering her his hand.

Jane took it and stood up. “I told him I didn’t see what happened to the last human.”

“The one who surrendered?” Saren tilted his head to one side. “Ah; I see. You were worried I’d neglected to tell them that. No, Jane, they know everything.” He glanced towards the C-Sec officers. “Being a Spectre grants me certain privileges; they won’t pin be able to pin charges on me for any of this. I was simply defending my home and my daughter.”

Her eyes widened. “Your da-”

There was a soft bing from Saren’s omni-tool, denoting an important message. He sighed and pulled it up. After a moment of scanning the email, Saren shook his head in exasperation. “Perfect; they’re sending me out again.”

“The Council?” Jane asked.

“Yes.” Saren’s mandibles flared slightly. “They want me to evaluate a potential Spectre. Even though I wasn’t the one that put his name forward…” He shook his head and tapped his omni-tool. It disappeared. 

Jane frowned slightly. It wasn’t often that they sent Saren out so soon after a mission. It must have been important…but still, she was worried. There was always a chance he would never come back. She’d been to enough memorials for Saren’s fallen comrades to know that much. They were always small, quiet affairs that were hardly ever announced. Only the family and the other Spectres ever really knew about them. The Council didn’t like advertising that their top tier agents were, in fact, still mortal. 

“…you’ll be careful, won’t you?” she asked.

“Of course,” Saren said. He offered her a small smile and rubbed the top of her head.

“And you’ll try to keep your promise?” Jane frowned up at him.

Saren paused and let out a sigh. “Of course I’m going to try Jane. But one day you’ll be a Spectre; and you’ll understand that the universe doesn’t often deal in black and white. Right and wrong…it’s all subjective. And you’ll have to decide what is right for the entire galaxy. It’s not a job that lends itself to mercy, Jane.”

“…one day, _I’ll_ be a Spectre?” Jane repeated. She stared at him in shock.

He looked at her as though it were obvious. “I’ve had you pegged for the Spectres since the day I met you, Jane; why do you think I’m training you?”

 _Because you said I’m your daughter._ Jane bit back the response. “I…I don’t know.”

“You’ll do great things one day, Jane,” he said, rubbing the top of her head. “And, when I get back from this mission, I’ll take over your training from your tutors for a bit. I’m going to request some leave; I hate to leave you alone here with those Cerberus bastards coming after you.” They both glanced towards the apartment, and Saren frowned.

As much as Jane enjoyed training with Saren, knowing what it was leading towards colored it differently for her now. Saren was training her to be a Spectre. He’d decided it on the day they met, back when she’d tried to beat him to death a shovel. Jane’s stomach turned. A gurney floated out, pushed by a C-Sec officer. One of the humans was placed in a black body bag on top of it. 

_“You’ll do great things one day, Jane.”_

She was beginning to doubt she and Saren had the same definition of great.


	7. Rift

Jane squeezed her eyes shut. 

_She trips and the batarian grabs her foot. Jane screams and swings the shovel. It makes contact with his head, and he yells. She jerks her ankle out of his grip. Her little yellow shoe comes off and falls into the dust. She runs._

Her eyes opened again, and Jane sat up. Her breath began to come out in ragged gasps. All she could think about, all she could see, was them. After several years of ignoring them, pushing them away, trying to forget that they ever existed, they had come rushing back to the forefront of her mind. She saw her Mommy’s smile, smelled her Daddy’s cologne, felt John tugging on one of her pigtails. 

For a moment she considered getting out of her bed and going to Saren’s. But as her foot touched her bedroom floor, Jane reconsidered. It wasn’t as though Saren were there. And even if he was, she doubted being near him would reassure her after what-

Jane froze. She listened, her ears straining.

Footsteps. Soft footsteps. Right out in the hallway. It wasn’t Saren- she knew that sound well. His footsteps were heavy and almost rhythmic, like he was always partaking in an imperial march. Jane eased herself back into bed. She laid her head on her pillow, and reached one hand underneath it. Saren’s pistol was tucked there, just in case. She squeezed her eyes shut as her fingers grasped the cold metal. 

Perhaps it was just a Spectre coming to check on her. Perhaps-

The door opened. Jane peeked at them, not daring to open her eyes fully.

Three humans. 

Two of them approached while the third stood by the door, glancing warily down the hall. After what had happened to their last four agents, no doubt they had reason to be concerned. For all they knew Saren was waiting in the wings to surprise them again. 

As two of the humans neared, Jane sat up and pointed the pistol at them. They froze.

“Go away,” she said. Her voice trembled. Saren had made this look easy. His hands hadn’t shook like hers were now; his voice had been strong and commanding. Shooting at the range was one thing- this was entirely different. Having real, living people in your sights changed the game. 

One of the humans glanced at the other, then raised her hands. “We aren’t here to hurt you, Jane.”

“Go away.” She gritted her teeth. Her finger hovered over the trigger.

_“Don’t put your trigger on the finger unless you intend to shoot. Understand?”_

The problem was, Jane couldn’t seem decide what she intended to do. Her mind had gone blank. All she could do was hold the gun and stare at them. 

“We’re not going to hurt you,” the woman said again. “We’re just going to take you away from here. There’s a nice human family waiting for you on Terra Nova-”

“Go away,” Jane hissed. It was quickly becoming a plea. She felt as though something was happening. She was a train speeding down the tracks, heading to some unknown destination. But she didn’t know to where or what or why. “Please, just _go away_.”

The woman edged closer. “Jane, you’re just a little girl. You don’t understand- it’s not good for you to be here. You deserve your own people.” The look she gave Jane was almost one of…concern. 

“I’m happy here,” Jane said. “Please, just go away. I won’t tell anyone you were here. I don’t want Saren to hurt you. He will when he finds out, and he _always_ finds out.” 

The woman frowned. “This is why we have to get you away from him, Jane. He’s a madman. Saren will turn you against humanity. He’s already trying to turn a little girl into a killer.”

“I’m not a killer,” Jane whispered. 

And suddenly, the train was off the rails.

She shot the woman in the knee, then the man. The person guarding the door raised his gun, but was unsure of what to do. She aimed for his wrist and missed- it hit his shoulder instead. Jane shot again, this time in the knee. Once they were all down she vaulted from her bed. She jumped over their crumpled forms and ran to the living room, where Saren kept his personal terminal.

Jane punched in the emergency code, and within moments the holographic form of an asari VI appeared before her.

“You have accessed the Citadel emergency services; what is the nature of your emergency?” Avina asked. 

“There are intruders in my house!” Jane said. 

“C-Sec officers are en route. Please get to a safe location and remain there until officers arrive,” Avina said.

All Jane could do, however, was stand there. It vaguely reminded her of when Saren found her on Mindoir. She remembered being frozen in place – covered in dust, her knees bleeding, holding the shovel so tightly her knuckles were white – unable to comprehend what she’d just done. This time felt much the same. She stood there in her pajamas, Saren’s pistol clutched tightly in one hand. 

C-Sec came in with their guns up. 

“In there,” she said numbly. She pointed with the pistol. Three of the officers went into her room. The fourth walked over and unceremoniously picked her up and carried her outside. The Presidium was blinding after being in her dark apartment. Jane covered her eyes and blinked hard. Would it kill them to turn off the artificial sunlight for once?

“Are you alright?” the officer asked, setting her down. 

She found herself face-to-face, for the second time in as many weeks, with Officer Galverus Vakarian. 

“Yes, sir,” she said. 

His eyes went to the pistol in her hand. He held out his hand for it, and she gave it up willingly. It was evidence now, she supposed. “Tell me what happened.”

“They came in. I told them to go away.” Once again she was struck by how eerily similar the situations were. “They didn’t. So I shot at them.”

Officer Vakarian entered what she’d said into his datapad. “Are you injured?”

“No.” She paused. “…do you _have_ to file a report for this?”

Only the spirits knew what Saren would do to these people when he got home. This was the second attempted kidnapping in two weeks. She knew he wouldn’t stand for it. What would he do to them? In her mind’s eye she saw the human’s neck twist and break, so fast her mind could barely process what had happened. 

“Yes, I do,” Officer Vakarian said. He looked down at her. “Why? Do you not want me to?”

“I don’t want Saren to find out,” she said quietly. “He’ll try to hurt them.”

“He certainly won’t stand for it,” Officer Vakarian said. His tone was one of disgust. “And with his status, he’ll get away with whatever he does. Just like always.” He looked down at Jane. “If we tried to hide this from him, it would just blow up in our faces.”

“Oh,” she said quietly. “Alright, I guess.”

“Just sit out here,” he said. “And call someone to let you stay with them until Saren gets home.”

Jane sat down and tried to think of people she should call. But instead all that ran through her mind was what Officer Vakarian had said.

_“And with his status, he’ll get away with whatever he does. Just like always.”_

For the entire three years Jane lived with Saren, she was convinced he was a hero. He’d been her everything from the moment she stepped out from behind those crates. He was strong, he was strict, but he was patient. When he needed to be, he was gentle. And his illustrious job as a Spectre only proved what she felt was the truth. 

But now…

_“Just like always.”_

Who was Saren, really? Jane was beginning to think she didn’t know. 

*

For the next month she stayed with Tulea, her sister Nitea, and their father, the former turian councilor Tulio Adacius during the day. In the evenings a Spectre – one almost always different from the day before – would walk her home and stand guard in the living room while she slept. Jane wasn’t certain who the Spectres were sent by; it could be that Saren knew what had happened. Or it could have been the work of Mr. Adacius; he could have easily asked for the ‘unoccupied’ Spectres as a favor. 

At the end of the month it was Tulio who walked her back to her apartment- and instead of a Spectre waiting, it was Saren.

Despite everything that happened, Jane was relieved to see him. She rushed forward and hugged him. “I’m glad you’re home.”

Instead of giving his usual reaction – returning the hug, or at least rubbing the top of her head – Saren gently pushed her away. “I’ve been approved for leave for the next couple of months.”

“Glad to hear it,” Tulio said. He was still standing in the doorway, his arms crossed. “Perhaps now you can get around to raising your child, Saren.” 

“Not all of us can quit our positions to stay at home and play homemaker,” Saren replied coldly. 

Jane looked between them. The tension in the room was suddenly palpable. For a moment, Jane thought the situation was about to escalate. Then Tulio just cast her a sympathetic look and said, “See you soon, Jane. I have to break the news to Tulea that you won’t be spending most of your time at our place anymore.” His eyes cut to Saren. After giving him one last cold look, he was gone.

“…what was that about?” Jane asked, looking to Saren.

“It appears the former councilor doesn’t like the way I’m raising you,” he said. Saren shook his head. “Well, it’s no business of his.” He turned and began to head towards his study. “I’m going to be doing some work. Don’t disturb me.”

The door to his office shut behind him, and Jane was left alone in the living room.

She’d already finished her homework at Tulea’s house, and she didn’t have a lesson planned for the day. So Jane spent her evening trying to keep herself busy. She read a little bit, tried to see how many push-ups she could do before collapsing (62, a new record!), and watched a couple of vids. (Educational ones, of course; Saren didn’t let her watch anything else.) When the clock hit seven Jane made dinner for both herself and Saren. She was an expert at cooking with dextro food now, even if she couldn’t actually taste her work for herself. Saren seemed to like it, at least.

When dinner was ready, she went and knocked on the study door. 

There was a moment of silence then: “What is it Jane?”

“I made dinner!” she said through the door.

There was another moment of silence. The doors opened, and Saren walked out. Together they headed towards the dining room. Jane sat down in her chair- and watched as Saren picked up his plate and headed back towards his office.

“Can’t you eat in here?” she asked.

Saren sighed. “Jane, I told you- I’m working.”

“Can’t it wait till dinner is over?” She looked at him pleadingly.

“Jane, you don’t understand. I found an artifact on my last mission. It’s connected to something huge- something huge enough to get rid of Cerberus,” Saren said. “But I don’t fully understand it yet. So I need time to study it. Understand?”

“I…guess so.” Getting rid of Cerberus seemed to be pretty important. So far they’d attempted to kidnap her twice- and from the feeds, she knew they’d done worse. If Saren had found a way to get rid of them…well. He had a duty to the galaxy, didn’t he? “I…good night, then.”

“Good night, Jane.”

With that he disappeared into his study.


	8. Stretched Too Thin

Jane ducked a punch and darted to the side. Her fist connected with her tutor’s side. She recovered quickly and aimed a kick at the back of one of her legs. Jane danced to the side and got in two more punches, right where the plates on the back and sides connected. Niia turned and swung at her. Her fist connected with Jane’s head, knocking her to the floor. For a moment the world turned fuzzy. 

When her vision refocused, Niia’s hand hovered above her.

Jane grabbed her hand and stood up.

“You’re getting better, kid,” Niia said. 

“She’s still sloppy,” Saren said. 

Jane was panting. She doubled over, setting her hands on her knees. Her tutor crossed her arms over her chest. 

“She’s only thirteen,” Niia said. She glanced towards Jane, her gaze softening only slightly. “Go get some water, kid.”

Jane nodded and walked away. Sweat was rolling down her forehead. She picked up a rag as she reached her bench and buried her face in it. A few years ago, she would have been pleased to have Saren at her lessons. Now it gave her constant anxiety. She knew he was watching her every move, making a mental note of every single mistake and missed opportunity. Jane tossed the rag down on to the bench and picked up her water bottle. Though she did her best to ignore the arguing a mere forty feet away from where she was standing, the yelling was difficult to block out.

“You’re not pushing her hard enough!”

“What do you want me to do, Arterius?! Train her like she’s about to go to war? She’s a child!”

“And one day she’ll be a soldier! She’s a week away from her coming of age!”

“She’s still a kid! If I push her any farther she’s going to break! Is that what you want?”

“She’s stronger than you think. You’re just afraid to test her limits!”

“Fuck yes I am! Because she’s a _child!_ If I go too far, I could fuck her up for life! I don’t want that for her. Do you!?”

Jane sat down on the bench with a heavy sigh. Every part of her hurt. Her arms, her legs, her abdomen, her head. (Niia was legendary for her right hook.) Her training was growing more intense with each passing day. Jane could feel herself being stretched too thin, like a rubber band. When she would snap was anyone’s guess. She rubbed her shoulder and watched as Niia threw her hands up in defeat.

“Fine! Find someone else to coach her. I’m not going to be responsible for psychologically fucking a child!” Niia yelled. She stormed off, passing Jane. As she did she cast her a sympathetic look and mumbled, “Sorry, kid.”

“Bye Niia,” Jane said so quietly she wasn’t sure she was heard.

Saren walked over. His steely blue eyes were still burning with a cold fury. “I’ll find you a new tutor for your hand-to-hand lessons. Someone competent.”

Jane glanced down and said nothing.

*

“So, Jane,” Lutadaia said, resting her head on her hand, “excited about your trip to Palaven?”

Jane stabbed her food with her fork. She was still sore from last night’s training, and still upset she’d lost Niia as an instructor. It was Niia who first taught her how to punch, how to dodge, how to use her small size to her advantage. They were friends, and had been since Saren put her in lessons almost six years ago. It would feel strange – wrong, even – to train with anyone else. It was all she could think about now. That and her coming of age. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Jane said. She cut into her meat. Or whatever today’s lunch was; it was from Thessia, and had a thick but squishy texture. 

Her friends all exchanged a look. 

“Nervous?” Tulea ventured. She tilted her head to one side, her expression one of concern. The blue ink of her markings stood out sharply against her white plates. She’d had her coming of age just a month before. 

“No,” Jane replied, sighing. “Well, yes- but- it’s just been a weird couple of days.”

“Define weird.” Netan said. 

She huffed. “Saren got into a fight with one of my instructors, Niia. He fired her.” Jane stared down at her plate. “He said she wasn’t pushing me hard enough.”

“Was she?” Vellia asked. 

“I’m still sore from every hit she got in during training,” Jane said. She sipped at her water, frowning. Part of her wanted to talk to Saren about rehiring Niia. But the more rationale part of her was certain that Niia would refuse to come back. This wasn’t the first time her instructor had butted heads with her father. She knew neither of them were going to budge; it wasn’t worth fighting Saren over. And Jane had learned to pick her battles with him very carefully. “He’s taking over my lessons until he finds me someone new.”

“Hand-to-hand combat lessons with a Spectre? No thank you,” Lutadaia said, shaking her head. “Training with my dad is bad enough, and he’s an _actor_.”

“Actor or not, he’s still a turian,” Tulea said. She looked back towards Jane, trying to smile at her reassuringly. “I’m sure he’s just doing what he thinks is best…I mean, you’re a week out from your coming of age. It’s a big step.”

A big step she didn’t even want to think about. She glanced at Tulea, Vellia, and Lutadaia’s faces. All of them had turned fourteen before her. All of them now bore their clan’s markings. Soon enough she’d have to make a choice. Getting clan Arterius’s markings would change her forever. It would mean devoting herself completely to clan Arterius and the Hierarchy. She’d be completely forsaking her human heritage and taking on her turian one completely. Of course, she could choose to be barefaced. Saren was barefaced- but what if he expected her to get his clan’s marks anyway? Would he think it was an insult? And even if she did get the markings- would anyone ever accept her? Would it be a slap in the face to her human family? 

Whatever she chose, she would be making someone angry. If she got the markings, a lot of turians would just laugh at her. Most humans would be angry at her for adopting a turian way of life over the one she was born into. If she didn’t get the markings, she risked Saren’s scorn. And, odds were, turians would _still_ laugh at her for being barefaced. No matter what she decided, she couldn’t win. 

“Yeah,” Jane agreed quietly. “It is.”

“She’s terrified,” Netan observed. 

“I am not!” Jane frowned at the salarian. She loved Netan- but she hated how well she could read people sometimes.

“You don’t know whether or not you should get the Arterius clan markings because you’re human,” Netan said. It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact.

Jane stabbed at the strange squishy meat on her plate again. “Shut up.”

“Am I wrong?” Netan tilted her head. The question was met with silence, and subsequent sympathetic gazes from Jane’s turian friends. 

“…Jane-” Vellia began, her tone gentle. No doubt she was going to attempt to comfort her. But she was interrupted by the sound of a lunch tray crashing down against the floor, followed by the sound of someone yelling, “PICK IT UP, SUIT-RAT!” The cafeteria grew silent, and all of them turned to look.

A quarian was standing in the middle of the room, his lunch now splattered against the white tile floor. Three turian boys – upperclassmen from the looks of it – sneered at him. 

“Go on,” one of the turians said, gesturing to the lunch tray. “Pick it up.”

“Spirits,” Lutadaia grumbled. “What assholes.”

The quarian slowly crouched down to pick up his tray. He reached for it, but the turian kicked it away. There were titters of laughter from some of the other students. Jane swallowed hard. She knew what _that_ felt like. When she’d come to the Academy, she was one of three human students. This quarian, she realized, must have been the only one in the entire school. She watched as he trailed after the tray- only to have an asari girl kick it away again. The laughter was louder this time. 

“Pick it up, suit-rat!” someone yelled.

“Pick it up!” someone else chimed in. 

“That’s it,” Jane said. She got up, ignoring her friend’s protests. Without thinking she marched over to the group of turians who had instigated the whole thing- and who were now holding the tray out of the quarian’s reach. She gently pushed him aside, positioning herself between him and the bullies. “Leave him alone.”

One of the turian boys sneered, his mandibles flaring slightly in mock amusement. “Aw, is Arterius’s girl a suit-rat lover? Your blood-traitor daddy must be so proud.” 

Jane shoved him- hard. He stumbled back into his two friends, almost knocking all three of them over. “I said: _leave him alone_!” 

“It’s fine,” the quarian said quietly.

“No, it’s not!” Jane said. She glared at the turians. “Apologize to him.”

“Fuck off,” the turian snapped. “I’m not taking orders from some wannabe turian _bitch_.”

Just like that it was like a switch had been flipped. The past couple of day’s frustration and anxiety was unleashed in a torrent of anger. Jane let out an angry yell – a war cry, really – and threw the first punch.

*

“You're a mess,” Saren finally said. It was the first time he’d spoken since he’d picked her up from the Academy’s main office. Throughout the entire ride back to the apartment, he’d been completely silent. Jane jumped slightly as he spoke and turned to look at him sheepishly. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. 

“How did it start?” he asked. His face was impassive, and practically unreadable. 

“Some boys were picking on this new kid- Zasin. He’s quarian, and they were calling him a suit-rat. So I stepped in and tried to stop it, and then they called you a blood-traitor and they said I was a wannabe turian bitch and then I punched one of them in the face.” All of it came out in a rush, so fast she wondered if Saren even understood. She glanced at him hesitantly. It only occurred to her when she was finished that she’d actually cursed in front of him- a huge infraction in their household. 

Saren simply crossed his arms. “You threw the first punch?” 

“Yes,” she said, looking down. 

“How many of them were there?” he asked.

“Three.”

“And you fought them by yourself?”

“Kinda. Vellia jumped in to help me after one of them gave me this,” she said, gesturing to her black eye. It was swollen, and hurt far more than it did when she was sitting in the office. 

“The Dean told me a teacher had to pull you off of them,” Saren said. 

“They did.” Spirits, she was in for it. Jane shut her eyes and waited for the torrent to begin. But it never came. After a moment of waiting she glanced towards Saren. “…aren’t you mad?”

Saren’s mandibles flared slightly in…amusement? “No. I’m proud of you.”

“…you’re _proud_ of me?” Jane stared at him in disbelief. “But- but- I got into a fight! I got suspended! For two weeks!”

“Do you really want me to be mad at you?” Saren asked, tilting his head slightly. “You saw someone who you thought was being wronged. You stepped in. They started a confrontation. You ended it. That’s the Arterius way. Now go clean yourself up and get started on your homework. I don’t want this suspension to cause you to fall behind.”

“Yes, sir,” Jane said. She went obediently to her room with a spring in her step, a sense of dread lifted from her shoulders. Saren wasn’t going to kill her! But as she dabbed the dried blood off her split lip and tenderly applied some medi-gel to her black eye, she thought about what he had said. About the Arterius way.

Jane stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. At her pale skin and freckles. At her big green eyes. At her long red hair, still tangled and tousled from the fight. She tried to imagine her face with the blue striped markings of clan Arterius. She’d seen them before in pictures and in vids Saren had shown her when he was teaching her about her lineage. Two blue stripes over her eyes, two following the curvature of her cheeks down to her chin…she had no mandibles, so the priestess would likely put the last couple of markings on the edge of her jaw.

_Wannabe turian bitch._

Born a human, brought up as a turian. Jane, once again, felt a rubber band being pulled in two different directions. Her fourteenth birthday was only a week away. They were leaving for Palaven in a couple of days; possibly earlier now that she didn’t have to go to school for two weeks. Soon, she would have to make her decision. 

Was she human, or was she turian? 

Shepard or Arterius?


	9. Coming of Age

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update in honor of Father's Day!

“They’re going to hate me,” Jane said. She stared at the path leading up to the house. Her environmental suit flashed an alert in front of her eyes- elevated heart rate. She swallowed hard. What happened if you puked in an environmental suit, she wondered? Maybe she’d ask her new quarian friend Zasin when she got to go back to school. If, that was, she didn’t find out firsthand.

“They’re not going to hate you,” Saren said. “Help me with the bags.”

Jane swallowed again and reached into the back of the taxi. She grabbed her duffle bag and slung it over her shoulder- and noticed a box sitting on the seat, beside Saren’s bag. She went to grab it, only for him to smack her hand away. 

“Don’t touch that,” he said ferociously. 

Jane grabbed her hand and frowned. The smack hadn’t hurt – she would have known if Saren meant for it to – but it was the principle of the thing. He’d never hit her before. Well, not outside of training anyway. Perhaps it was just her nerves, but she wasn’t in the mood to deal with one of Saren’s moods. Not today. “You told me to help you with our things.” 

His expression softened, but only slightly. “Just grab the bags, Jane.”

She rolled her eyes, happy he couldn’t see it behind the helmet of her suit. Jane grabbed his bag, allowing him to grab the box and tuck it underneath his arm. The doors of the taxi closed. Moments later it zipped off, disappearing back into the rush of Cipritine traffic. Jane stared at the house. It was a typical build for a turian house. It looked more like a fortress than a home, made up of metal and sharp angles. 

“Come on,” Saren said. He began to walk up toward the path. She followed him and listened to the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. 

The door opened before Saren even had a chance to knock on it. An elderly female turian stood in the doorway. She smiled slightly. “There’s my grandson. It’s been too long, Saren.” 

Saren briefly pressed his forehead against his grandmother’s in greeting. “I take it no one else showed.”

Her mandibles flickered just barely, indicating she was uncomfortable. “I’m sure they’ll come. Her birthday isn’t until tomorrow.” The turian’s eyes turned towards Jane, and her mandibles flared wider. “There she is- well, come here, child. Give your great-grandmother a hug.”

Jane walked forward hesitantly. She knew this woman by name alone: Floretia Salvisis-Arterius, Saren’s paternal grandmother. She’d received a few gifts from her on her birthdays, back when she was young and it was still acceptable (by turian standards) to spoil children. But Jane was an adult now. The time for presents had passed. She hugged Floretia, slightly surprised at the warm welcome she received. Turians weren't one for hugs or any sort of major display of affection. At least not with their older children. It was as though Floretia was trying to assure her that she truly was welcome.

“Well, come in,” Floretia said. She stood aside, letting them tramp into the old family home. Jane began to strip out of her environmental suit while Saren carried their things – the mysterious box included – up the stairs. 

“Such a pretty girl.” Floretia remarked, watching as Jane folded up the suit. She turned her head to look at someone down the hall. Another turian had appeared. “Isn’t she pretty, Desitis?”

Jane froze where she stood and stared at the newcomer. Desitis Arterius. Saren’s father. 

Desitis frowned and walked forward slowly. He looked so much like Saren it was startling- though his eyes were yellow, not blue. And he wasn’t barefaced. For a moment he simply stood beside his mother and stared at Jane. Then, without a word, he followed Saren up the stairs. Floretia looked from Jane to the stairs, her mandibles just barely twitching again. 

“Jane, dear, why don’t you go get yourself something to eat? I had some levo food shipped in just for you,” Floretia said. With that she hurried up the stairs as quickly as a hundred-and-ten-year-old turian could hurry. 

Jane swallowed hard and walked into the kitchen. She sat down at the table, and then the yelling began.

“I FORBID IT! A HUMAN WILL NOT WEAR OUR CLAN’S MARKS WHILE I BREATHE!”

“SHE’S A MEMBER OF THIS CLAN!”

“HOW LONG ARE YOU GOING TO KEEP THIS CHARADE UP, SAREN!? SHE’S NOT YOUR DAUGHTER!”

“BOTH OF YOU, STOP IT-”

“YOU COME HERE TO OUR ANCESTRAL HOME, BRINGING A HUMAN AND PARADING HER AROUND LIKE SHE’S A TURIAN! YOUR BROTHER IS ROLLING OVER IN HIS GRAVE, SAREN!”

Jane felt tears stinging at her eyes. Of course it would go like this. Why did she dare to hope any different? A coming of age ceremony was supposed to be a huge family event. The entirety of clan Arterius should have already been there- but the house was empty, save for Floretia and Desitis. Jane glanced into the dining room. The huge table could easily seat thirty- and places were set at every chair. Floretia had been more hopeful than even she and Saren.

Minutes later she heard someone storm down the stairs. The front door opened and slammed shut again. Jane bit her lip, unable to stop the tears. She hardly even noticed when Saren walked in, still fuming from his argument with his father. 

“Stop crying,” he snapped. 

“He hates me,” Jane said, sniffling. 

“I said _stop crying_ ,” Saren growled. “You’re an adult now; act like it.” 

His words cracked like a whip. Jane wiped at her eyes obediently and tried to quell the rising sobs. The last thing she wanted was for Saren’s anger to be redirected at her. 

Floretia came in next, her eyes cold and furious. “Saren Arterius-”

“I’m not going to apologize,” he said. “He insulted my daughter. Would you have let your father insult any of _your_ children?” His eyes cut to Jane, who was still hiccuping. “Jane, I am not going to repeat myself again: Stop. Crying.”

“Leave the girl alone!” Floretia snapped. “She just had to witness her father and grandfather make complete fools of themselves! It’s no wonder she’s upset!”

“He’s no father of mine,” Saren snarled. With that he stormed out again, heading back up the stairs. 

Floretia watched him go and threw up her arms in exasperation. When he was gone, she cast Jane a sympathetic look. “I am so sorry you had to see that, Jane…those two are just so stubborn. It runs in the blood, I think; Desitis’s father was much the same way.” She sighed and sat down across from Jane at the kitchen table. “You have to realize Saren’s decision to adopt you was very…controversial. Especially among the rest of the clan.”

Jane glanced down. She could only vaguely remember the media circus that had followed her adoption. There were still a couple of pictures of her and Saren still floating around the extranet. The day he’d taken her home, there had been reporters there to document the momentous adoption. The pictures were actually very sweet – little Jane hugging his legs, while Saren smiled and patted the top of her head. Saren had risked so much to take her in, to train her…including the scorn of his family. 

“If they’d just give me a chance…” Jane said. 

Floretia reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “I’m sure you’ll show them. Getting your markings will certainly prove to them that you’re dedicated.”

Jane felt her stomach flip. The ceremony was the next day, and she still had no idea what she was going to choose. She’d considered talking to Saren about it, but he was still spending most of his time at home locked away in his study. Her friends had given her what advice they could, but they didn’t understand. Not truly. They weren’t locked in a mental and physical battle of the species. 

“…you’re not sure you want to get the markings,” Floretia said, reading the doubt on her face. She sighed and squeezed Jane’s hand comfortingly. “Well of course you aren’t- you poor thing. I’m sure this is all very confusing for you.”

Tears pricked at her eyes, but Jane refused to let them fall. If Saren came back in and saw her crying still, she would be in for it. “What do you think I should do?”

“Well,” Floretia said. She paused. “Do you know why some people choose to be barefaced? Even though there’s a stigma attached to it?”

She shook her head.

“Getting your clan’s markings means you are devoting yourself to your family- everything you do, you do for them. You’re putting on the war paint that our ancestors wore eons ago, and it tells everyone that you’re willing to die for your clan,” Floretia said. “Being barefaced…well, it means you stand for something else.”

“Something else?” Jane stared at her, unsure what she meant.

“Well, it could mean plenty of things. You’re loyal to someone or something else- yourself, your work, the Hierarchy,” Floretia explained. “You’re not willing to die for your clan because you recognize there’s something more important than your family. That’s the idea, anyway.” She smiled a bit, her dark gray mandibles flaring. “Does that help you at all?”

Jane nodded slowly. She thought of Saren, and how all of her training, all of her lessons, were meant to prepare her for a future as a Spectre. A Spectre wasn't just loyal to their family. They were loyal to the entire _galaxy._ “A little. Thank you, Floretia.”

Floretia shook her head. “No descendant of mine is going to call me by my first name. Call me Gran, if you call me anything.”

She smiled slightly. At least someone in clan Arterius was willing to offer her acceptance. “Thank you, Gran.”

*

Jane carefully knelt before the shrine dedicated to the spirits. There were hundreds of candles laid out before her- each one representing one of her turian ancestors. She swallowed hard. She’d practiced the family lineage a hundred times. Starting from the clan founders, Jane began to say the names. As she did she lit a candle for each. The heat around her began to grow with each name listed off. Sweat rolled down her face. Her throat felt dry. But she could feel Saren and Gran’s eyes on her back; she couldn’t mess up. Not now.

Finally, she neared the end.

“Desitis Arterius, husband of Allonia Duvilin-Arterius, father to Desolas Arterius and Saren Arterius,” Jane said, holding the flame to the wick of the candle. For a moment she thought of the argument that had taken place the night before. Her grandfather had not shown up to watch his granddaughter go through her coming of age, though Saren refused to acknowledge his absence. 

“Saren Arterius,” Jane continued, moving the flame to one of the last unlit candles. “Husband to none, father to Jane Elissa Arterius.”

The last candle, the largest one, sat directly in front of her. It was silver and blue, the colors of their clan. It represented her. The bright future of clan Arterius. One of the many descendants to carry on the light passed to her by her father, and his father, and his father before him. She slowly held the flame to the wick of the candle.

“Jane Elissa Arterius. Firstborn of Saren Arterius, heir to his fortunes and lands, pride of her clan, and future of her family name,” Jane said. She pulled away the ceremonial torch and blew out the fire at the tip. The words were purely ceremonial. Jane highly doubted anyone in the Arterius family would call her the pride of their clan. She set down the torch with a shaking hand. Halfway done. 

Jane stood up slowly. After sitting on her knees for almost an hour, her legs strained in protest. She turned to face the priestess, Saren, and Gran. Gran smiled slightly and gave her an encouraging nod.

The priestess had all of the necessary tools for the marking set out. Jane glanced at them, feeling bile rise in her throat. Spirits, she was terrified. But then she looked to Saren. He clasped his hands behind his back and straightened up. She followed his example: straightened her back, raised her head. Stand tall and stand proud. That was the Arterius way.

“Jane Arterius- will you take on the marks of your clan?” the priestess asked. “Will you declare to the world that you will fight, die, and sacrifice all you have for your blood?”

She swallowed hard. Now or never.

“No,” she said. “I want to declare to the world that I will fight, die, and sacrifice all I have for something far bigger- the entire galaxy, and the good of all people in all systems.” 

“Very well,” the priestess said. She dipped one of her fingers in some pale green oil and smeared it across Jane’s forehead, underneath her eyes, and over her lips. “May the spirits guide you through happiness and sorrow, peace and war, success and hardship. May you carry the name of your ancestors with pride, and fulfill your duties as a daughter, sister, and warrior of clan Arterius.”

Jane bowed her head. She didn’t dare look at Saren. Not yet.

“Let all know,” the priestess said, placing her hand on top of Jane’s head, “that Jane Arterius, daughter of Saren Arterius, has come of age as a warrior of her clan.” She stepped back, and Jane lifted her head. 

Saren was smiling.


	10. Direction

“Again.”

Jane set her hands on her knees and attempted to catch her breath. The idea of running through the maneuver one more time made her want to fall down and never move again. But Saren was waiting on her, his patience thinning by the second. She steeled herself and ran at him again. Jane realized a second too late that her form was bad. In her exhaustion, she’d become reckless. She tried to fix her mistake, but it was too late. Saren knocked her off balance with an easy swing of his foot. He grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her, sending pain shooting up through her shoulder.

“Sloppy,” he said.

Jane gritted her teeth and slipped out of the hold with relative ease. “I’m tired. We’ve been at this for hours.”

“And we’ll keep doing it until you do it right,” Saren snapped. “Again.”

“I need a break,” Jane insisted. 

Saren frowned, his eyes narrowing angrily. “I’m not going to repeat myself again, Jane.”

“Neither am I.” She crossed her arms over her chest. 

The surprise was evident across Saren’s face. His mandibles flared, and the plates above his eyes raised in shock. Jane had never so blatantly disobeyed him- or talked back. The shock was momentary, however. His steely blue eyes narrowed. There was something…dangerous in his tone when he spoke. “ _Again_ , Jane.” Saren paused. “Show me you can do it this time- and it will be the last one.”

He was giving her an inch of ground, perhaps an attempt to recognize her newfound status as an adult in the eyes of turian society. But Jane knew better than to try to take a mile. She swallowed, then steeled herself. She had to pour everything she had into this. She had to do it right. After a moment of preparation, Jane ran at Saren again. She feinted to one side, but he saw through it and countered with a punch. She ducked away from it and found her opening. Jane prepared herself, channeling all of her energy into this next punch-

There was a small flash of blue. The punch barely did anything to Saren; Jane didn’t exactly have the same strength as a full-grown turian Spectre. He didn’t even seem to notice the small blue flash. He simply grabbed her arm and flipped her on to the mat, knocking the wind out of her. 

“…did you see that?” she asked, sitting up slowly.

“See what?” Saren offered her his hand and pulled her to her feet. 

“That little bit of biotics she just pulled,” Gran said. She was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. Her mandibles flared slightly in a turian grin. “She’s a biotic, Saren.”

Saren looked at her for a moment. For a moment, Jane didn’t know how he was going to react. Biotic children, in turian society, were frowned upon. She glanced down at her hand, wondering perhaps if it was a trick of the light. After all, Saren hadn’t even noticed it… 

“Well,” he said. “I’ll need to hire you another tutor.” He paused. “Though I know who would do in the meantime.” 

*

Two and a half weeks later, Jane was back on the Citadel as a fully registered biotic with a shiny new implant. The marks from her surgery had barely faded when Saren sent her to a high-end apartment on the Presidium to meet her temporary biotics tutor. She hesitated in front of the door, then knocked.

An asari woman opened the door. She smiled. “Ah; you must be our guest.”

“Are you my tutor?” Jane asked.

The asari laughed. “Oh, no, of course not; the Matriarch will be instructing you.”

She stared. “The Matriarch?”

“Yes. Please, come in,” the asari said. She set a hand on Jane’s shoulder and gently guided her into the apartment. 

It was far larger than even her and Saren’s home. The living room was extremely spacious and filled with elegant white furniture. Works of art and gorgeous sculptures decorated the space. A couple of asari, all dressed similarly to the girl who had greeted her, sat around the room talking softly. They were all gathered near an asari woman dressed in a regal yellow dress. She looked up when Jane entered and smiled.

“You must be Saren’s girl,” the asari said. She stood and moved to greet her. “I’m Matriarch Benezia.”

Jane’s eyes widened slightly. The servant girl’s words had finally set in. An asari matriarch? She was going to learn how to be a biotic from an _asari matriarch_? Granted her tutors were generally prestigious figures; Niia had been given too many medals to count, and her firing instructor had over two hundred confirmed kills from his days as a sniper for the turian Hierarchy. But an _asari matriarch_? She stared at Matriarch Benezia with her mouth slightly agape. Benezia simply smiled down at her. 

“I…you’re…you’re teaching me?” Jane stammered. “ _You_?”

“Yes.” Benezia seemed amused. “I will be showing you the basics, at least. I’m only on the Citadel for a short time. Saren asked I teach you until he can find you a proper tutor.” She gestured for Jane to follow her. They moved into the adjacent room, which seemed to have been cleared for their training. “Saren told me you had your implant put in a week ago; how has it healed?”

“It’s still a little sore,” Jane admitted.

Benezia nodded. “We’ll take things easy, then; today is focused less on technique and more on simply channeling your biotics.” She held out her hand, allowing Jane to see the blue biotic energy pulsing around it. “Your biotics are like a muscle. When you first begin using them, it will be difficult. You will be weak. But the more you train, it will become stronger. Things that take plenty of effort and focus now will become second-nature to you in time.” 

Jane attempted to channel that energy into her own hand. It took immense focus, even with her shiny new amp. She furrowed her brow. For a while it seemed nothing was going to happen. Then, slowly, a small blue aura began to surround her hand. She grinned and clenched it into a fist.

“Very good,” Benezia said. She smiled. “Now the other hand.”

They spent two to three hours simply learning how to channel biotic energy. Jane learned that patience and focus were key to controlling biotics- ‘controlling’, however, was a loose word for it. 

“Biotics abilities aren’t _controlled_ ,” Benezia explained. “They are simply directed. There’s always going to be an element of instability; but practice and training minimize that aspect.” 

Jane looked at the glow of blue energy surrounding both of her hands. It was getting harder to channel it; she was beginning to get tired. She knew that turians had a stigma against biotics- or cabals, as they were called in the military. Probably in part due to the very reason Benezia had just given. Turians were all about control; biotics could be unpredictable. “Have you heard of many human biotics?”

“These days? Oh, yes,” Benezia said. “Most of them are around your age, I believe.” She smiled. “You’re part of the first generation of biotics in your species. It must be quite the honor.”

A human and a biotic. Just another reason for the rest of Jane’s clan – Saren’s clan – to hate her. “Yeah. A big honor.”

The Matriarch frowned slightly. “You don’t sound very enthusiastic, Jane.”

The blue energy around her hands faded, and she sighed. “I mean, it’s cool I guess. I’m the only one of my friends who’s a biotic.” Jane crossed her arms over her chest. “But the rest of clan Arterius already hates me, and Saren’s just been so…ugh.”

Benezia cast her a sympathetic look. “How about we take a break? I believe it’s time for lunch, anyhow.”

It was only then that Jane realized just how hungry she was. She nodded quickly and followed Benezia back into the spacious living room. The other asari seemed to have been waiting for them. By the time they sat down on the white sofa, the servants were bringing out trays of food. There seemed to be a collection of asari horderves, small little macaroon-like cakes, and a strange turquoise liquid in crystal glasses.

“So,” Benezia said. “Tell me. How’s your father?”

Hearing people refer to Saren as her father was always strange to her. He’d always made it clear she wasn’t to call him Dad or Daddy or Father or any variation of the term; but he’d called her his daughter before. So what else could he be? Jane frowned took another bite out of one of the little cakes. It was delicious, and tasted of something that vaguely reminded her of raspberries. “Annoying.”

“Parents often are,” Benezia chuckled. 

“Overbearing. Short-tempered.” Jane frowned down at her plate. “He was never…I don’t know. He’s always been sort of an ass-” She paused, shocked at herself. Did she really just call Saren an ass? …yeah, yeah she did. And the worst part? She wasn’t sorry. Jane meant it. “But lately he’s just been getting worse.”

Benezia frowned again, sipping at her drink. “I met Saren several years ago, when he was newly inducted into the Spectres…he was serious, hard as steel, as turians often are…but he was a good person. He had a good heart.”

For a moment Jane sees the Cerberus agents bleeding out on the carpet, and Saren slamming a grown man into the wall by his neck as though he didn’t weigh anything. She swallowed. “He’s…changed.”

“How so?” Benezia’s brow furrowed.

“All he’s done for – jeez, a couple years now – is go on missions or lock himself in his office studying this…artifact.” Jane frowned. “And when he’s actually around, he gets mad so easy now…all he talks about is how I’m getting older and I need to be stronger and Spectre this and Spectre that…” She didn’t know why she was telling Benezia this; talking to her just came so easily. When the Matriarch looked at her, Jane felt as though she were really listening. It wasn’t like talking to her friends or Saren (which was more or less like talking to a wall). She looked towards Benezia. “I used to think Saren was my biggest hero. Now he’s just-”

“An ass?” Benezia ventured. The word sounded so crude, so _awful_ coming from her. 

She looked down, ashamed. How could Jane call him that? After everything he’s done for her? “…I don’t know. I just feel like he’s changed.”

“You know, you remind me a great deal of my own daughter,” Benezia said with a smile. She set aside her plate and glass, and took one of Jane’s hands in her own. “Saren is a very dear friend of mine, and I know for a fact that he loves you more than life itself. He’d do anything to keep you safe and happy. Like any parent would.” She gave Jane’s hand a gentle squeeze. “He only wants what’s best for you.”

Jane sighed a little. Matriarch Benezia was right. Of course she was right. “I know…he wants me to be the first human Spectre.”

Benezia paused and looked at her. “And what do _you_ want, Jane?”

The question stunned her, if only because Jane suddenly realized she had no idea what the answer was. She wanted to make Saren proud, yes, but…did she even want to be a Spectre? She thought back to the answer she’d given to the priestess at the coming of age ceremony, and suddenly Jane felt as though she’d lied. “I…don’t know.”

“Give it some thought,” Benezia said. “Parents aren’t always happy with the choices their children make…but they must make them, all the same.” For a moment, Benezia seemed somber. Then she stood and smiled at Jane. “Now. If you’re finished, we should get back to your training.”

Jane nodded quickly and rose to her feet. Though as they walked back into the training room, she couldn’t help but think on Benezia’s question. She was fourteen; there weren’t very many years of schooling ahead of her. What would Saren expect her to do? Did he want her to finish her education by sixteen and join the military, as most turians did? Did he want her to continue until she was eighteen, as was the human custom? What would he expect of her when she graduated?

And what would he do if she didn’t agree to whatever he decided?


	11. The Rival

“There’s the galaxy’s next great sharpshooter,” Volio said, his mandibles flaring in a wide grin that Jane couldn’t help but return. He already had everything set out for her shooting lesson. A wide variety of pistols, a couple of shotguns, an assault rifle…and a sniper rifle. The only gun Jane hadn’t been permitted to touch since she began her lessons at the tender age of eight. “Ready to put some holes in some holographic targets?” 

She smiled a bit. Out of all her instructors, Volio was her favorite; unlike Saren and the others, he was capable of offering up a bit of praise now and again. “You know it.”

“Atta girl,” Volio said. “We’ll start with something easy, get you warmed up.”

Jane walked over to the station and picked up one of the pistols. She loaded a thermal clip and pointed the gun downrange, waiting. Moments later the targets were activated. Ten orange, vaguely person-shaped holograms moving back and forth across the range. Jane fired. She hit one of the targets in the head, and it dissipated. She fired again, and again, until each of the targets was marked as critically damaged by the program and removed from the range. 

“Ten targets,” Volio said, “eleven shots.”

Jane frowned, setting the gun down. She could practically hear Saren’s voice in the back of her mind. _"Not good enough, Jane. Do it again."_

“Not bad,” Volio said, grinning. “Not bad at all.”

She glanced at him and smiled, just a tad. But in the back of her mind she knew it wasn’t enough. When Saren looked at the records from this session – because he always did, no matter whether he was on a mission or at home – he would see it and then she’d get another hour long lecture. 

“Grab one of the shotguns, you still need practice with something that has more of a kick- oh, by the way, your father called,” Volio said. “Said he was stopping by your lesson today.”

 _Oh, great_ , Jane thought. The only thing worse than Saren criticizing her performance in her lessons was him actually being there to do it in person. In the year since her coming of age ceremony, her training had increased tenfold- along with pressure from Saren to be perfect in everything. Her biotics were the worst; for some reason he expected her to be a goddamn asari commando, even though her talents had only emerged the previous year.

“…don’t look so excited,” Volio said, his eyes indicating both amusement and a bit of sympathy. “You’re doing fine, Jane. Now go on- pretend you’re fending off an invasion or something.”

She loaded the shotgun and went to work. Shooting, at least, came easily to her. The first time Saren had put a pistol in her hands, it had felt awkward and clunky in her hands. Now each gun felt like an extension of her arm. They progressed through the lesson steadily; they moved from shotguns to assault rifles, until Volio told her to stop.

“Don’t reload,” he said as she lowered one of the rifles. “You’re going to be using _that_ next.” He nodded towards the sleek black sniper rifle. 

Jane’s heart jumped into her throat, but she didn’t question it. She put away the assault rifle and, slowly, picked up the sniper. It was lighter than she anticipated; though Jane knew it was still probably the most deadly gun she’d ever held. Volio helped her adjust her stance, then set up the targets. There were only two, at the very far end of the range almost 100ft away. 

“Take it slow,” Volio told her. “Breathe.”

She let out a deep sigh and looked down the scope of the rifle at the targets. Jane tried to steady the barrel of the gun, then fired.

The target registered a hit, but no critical damage.

“Damn it!” she hissed. 

“Try again,” Volio said. 

“In a real life situation, I would have just given away my position,” Jane grumbled.

“Good thing this is practice. Try again, Jane. It’s ok,” Volio assured her. 

She let out another long sigh and did as she said. The next shot wasn’t a perfect headshot, but it did hit in the throat. The target registered critical damage and dissipated. Without a word Jane focused her sights on the second one. She had to get this one perfect. A nice, clean headshot. Her finger hovered over the trigger.

One.

_Breathe. Focus._

Two.

_Focus._

Th-

A shot went off, and the target dissipated. Volio let out a celebratory and rather undignified whoop. Jane straightened up and looked at him in confusion. He clapped her on the shoulder, grinning widely. “Great shot, Jane!”

“That…wasn’t me,” Jane said. 

“You’re not an asari, Jane,” Saren said, stepping forward. “You can’t wait a hundred years to attack your target.” His look was disapproving and cold, as per the usual. “Nihlus won’t be around to pick up the slack on your missions, you realize.”

Nihlus? Jane looked at him in confusion, only to see another turian step forward- and set down a sniper rifle. He was much younger than Saren; maybe eighteen, nineteen? His plates were a rich dark brown, almost black. His tattoos were white and extremely intricate and elaborate; it must have taken the priestess hours to get them right at his coming of age. The intricate design indicated a more political family, but the white coloring meant his clan was founded on a colony, and might hold sway there. But in the rest of turian society, it didn’t mean much. 

“My apologies,” Nihlus said, bowing his head slightly. “Saren thought you needed a demonstration.”

 _Demonstration my ass_ , Jane thought. But she bit back the comment. “Thank you.”

“Nihlus, this is Jane; Jane, this is Nihlus Kryik. The second-youngest Spectre to ever be inducted into the ranks,” Saren said. 

Second-youngest. So, nineteen. Saren was eighteen when he was made a Spectre; he still held the record. Jane inclined her head in what turians considered a polite greeting, a gesture which Nihlus returned. It was strange. For someone most likely born and raised on a colony, he carried himself like a military general. 

“A pleasure to meet you,” Nihlus said. “Saren has told me all about you.”

 _All about what a failure I am, that’s what you want to say_ , Jane thought. But, once again, she bit her tongue. 

“Nihlus has volunteered to train with you for the next couple of weeks,” Saren said. He crossed his arms. The look he gave her told her that he’d seen her mess up on the first target. “You could stand to improve, so I suggest you don’t waste this opportunity.” 

“Yes sir.”

*  
“Dinner’s ready,” Jane yelled, glancing towards Saren’s office door. There was always a good chance Saren wouldn’t come out of his study for dinner. But that night the doors opened and Saren stepped out. She set his plate on the counter, expecting him to take it back into his study. But instead, Saren took it and sat down at the table. Jane shot him a wary look. They hadn’t eaten dinner together at the table in years; she wasn’t sure what this meant.

“How are your grades?” Saren asked as she took her seat.

“All Exemplary,” Jane said, without a hint of pride. It wasn’t an accomplishment; it was expected. 

Saren nodded once. “Nihlus will be accompanying you to your lessons starting tomorrow; you’ll also spend an extra hour training with him each day until he leaves in two weeks.”

Her face must have betrayed her less-than-enthusiastic feelings on the matter, because Saren launched right into a lecture.

“This is an opportunity, Jane; most people don’t get to train underneath one Spectre, much less two,” he said. “Nihlus is a skilled warrior, and one of the most promising Spectres I’ve ever mentored; you could stand to learn a few things from him.”

“Yes, sir,” Jane said, keeping her eyes on her plate. She shoveled her food into her mouth as quickly as she could without getting yelled at. 

Saren’s blue eyes seemed to stare right into her soul; there were honestly points where she thought he knew every wrong thing she’d said or done in the past month by simply looking at her. “He comes from a good background; his grandfather was Primarch Marcenus Adatus. His mother, Destivea, is currently an up-and-coming politician. She may be Primarch in another twenty years.” 

Of course he was descended from fucking clan Adatus- the closest thing turians had to nobility. They were comparable to the Hapsburgs or the Tudors of Earth- though the Adatus line had never faltered or died. Of course his grandfather was the Primarch. Of course his mother’s a diplomat. Jane stabbed at a piece of chicken and chewed without tasting it. For the past year she’d received nothing in the way of praise from Saren. But Nihlus, apparently, was perfect. So Jane just sat and listened as Saren told her of all the things she could learn from him. Or, rather, tried her hardest not to.

“Jane- Jane, are you listening to me?” The dangerous edge in Saren’s voice caught her attention. Her head snapped up, and she met his cold blue-gray eyes. 

“Yes sir,” she said dutifully. 

“You’re an awful liar, Jane,” Saren growled.

“Maybe Nihlus can teach me how to do that, too,” Jane grumbled, looking back down at her plate.

“What did you just say?” Saren said. 

She looked back up, defiant. “Maybe Nihlus can teach me how to lie, too. He can teach me how to do everything else- it’s not like you haven’t been training me for seven years or something!”

“Go to your room,” Saren said. 

Jane stood up. “You’re just angry because I’m right.”

“ _Now_ , Jane.”

“I’m going!” 

When the doors of her bedroom slid shut behind her, Jane threw herself on to her bed. And, for the first time in her life, resolved that she was going to skip her lessons for the next day. Anything to keep herself from seeing the great and perfect Nihlus again.

*

“Is he cute?” Lutadaia asked, sipping on her soda.

“It doesn’t matter if he’s cute!” Jane said, shoving one of her fries into her mouth. She technically wasn’t supposed to be eating junk food. (“Your body is a temple, Jane, treat it like one.”) But fuck it. One fattening meal wouldn’t make her heart explode. Besides, she was already breaking Saren’s rules as is. “You know Saren hasn’t shut up about him since he got here? All he does is brag about him. How I need to be more like him.”

“You’re jealous,” Netan said, not looking up from her tablet. “You have long since been Saren’s only protégé; thus you perceive this Nihlus – who your father praised openly – as a threat.”

Jane loved Netan. She really did. But sometimes she wanted to smack the salarian across the face. “I’m not jealous.”

“You didn’t say if he was cute or not,” Lutadaia said, redirecting the topic to its original start.

She groaned. “Ok, he’s cute, happy?”

“Oh, so you were checking him out?” Lutadaia leaned forward. Her mandibles flared into a smirk. 

“No! You kept asking, so I gave you an answer!” Jane said, frustrated. She looked towards her other friends for help. Tulea only smiled and shrugged. Vellia, thankfully, took mercy on her.

Vellia reached across the table and stole a bit of food off Lutadaia’s plate. “Lay off, Daia. You know Saren is never going to let her date, anyway.” She glanced towards Jane. “Just wait it out. He’s a Spectre; you know they never stay put for long. After this you probably won’t ever see him again.”

“Ok, but on a scale of one to ten, how cute is he _exactly_?” Lutadaia persisted.

“Daia.”

“Does he have a brother?”

“What does that have to do with anything-”

“So he _does_ have a brother?” Tulea joined in, grinning widely.

Jane groaned and ran her hand through her hair. At that moment she was saved by Zasin. The quarian hurried over to their table and sat down. Though his face wasn’t visible, all of them could tell that he was excited. 

“Test scores came in,” he said.

They all looked up, their interest piqued. Most students in their grade were already taking placement tests to decide what universities they could get into. Jane had been avoiding her tests like the plague. She didn’t know what she wanted to study, or if she wanted to go to university at all. Or, rather, if Saren wanted her to go. Ultimately what she wanted was secondary.

“Perfect score,” Zasin said, puffing out his chest proudly.

“Hell yeah!” Lutadaia said, grinning. “That’s my man.”

Zasin tilted his head downward slightly, still proud but now a bit bashful. “My mom is freaking out. She even called _her_ mom on the Flotilla and told her.”

“Do you plan on returning to your people after attending university?” Netan asked.

He hesitated. “I…don’t know. I want to study theatre, and be an actor like my mom. But there aren’t many roles for quarians.”

Lutadaia bumped her shoulder against his. “Since when do you let people’s bullshit discourage you? You can do anything you set your mind to.” She purred and pressed her forehead against his helmet, eliciting a soft, appreciative laugh from Zasin.

Tulea and Jane glanced at each other, then both began to make loud, obnoxious gagging noises.

“Bite me!” Lutadaia snapped.

“That’s Zasin’s job,” Netan deadpanned, looking back down at her tablet.

There was a pause, and then the table erupted into peals of laughter. And in that moment Jane found herself realizing just how unhappy she’d been. Her lessons took up almost all of her free time. When was the last time she got to do something like this? Just be a teenager with her friends? She looked around the table, smiling and laughing, when suddenly the laughter died in her throat.

Nihlus Kryik was walking right towards them.


	12. Letting the Cards Fall

Jane swallowed hard, then got up. “I’ll be right back.”

Her friends stopped laughing and looked at her in confusion. Then their eyes found the turian walking towards them. All of them fell silent and glanced at each other. Though as Jane walked towards Nihlus, she was certain she heard Lutadaia whisper “Definitely a ten” to Tulea. 

“You weren’t at your lesson today,” Nihlus said once she was close. “Your instructor was concerned; he said it wasn’t like you to miss.”

Jane crossed her arms over her chest. “I didn’t feel like going today.”

He glanced towards her friends. All of them were trying to subtly watch the exchange- and failing. Nihlus’s mandibles flared just slightly in recognition. He seemed almost…amused? “Ah. I see. Well.” His eyes turned back to her. “Saren told me to train with you; I intend to do just that.” 

“Why don’t you just go and leave me alone?” Jane said, frowning. 

“Because some of us aren’t foolish enough to disobey a direct order from Saren,” Nihlus replied. 

She narrowed her eyes. But something told her that Nihlus wasn’t going to take no for an answer. So, resolutely, she walked back towards her friends and picked up her things. “I have to go.”

Her friends cast Nihlus a sour look. They rarely got to see Jane as it was without him intervening. But they couldn’t do much except reluctantly tell her goodbye. The conversation resumed as Jane walked away, but was now at a low mumble. She knew them well enough to know they were complaining about him, and Saren, and their stupid lessons. 

“They seem nice,” Nihlus remarked as Jane walked back towards him. 

“Yeah, they’re great,” she said curtly. She marched past him towards the gym. 

“Where are you going?” Nihlus asked. 

Jane turned to look at him. “The gym. I thought we were training?”

“We are,” he said. “But not there.”

*

“This has to be _so_ illegal,” Jane said to herself. They were standing on the ledge of a building; it was large enough to walk around on and little else. Skycars zoomed overhead and below. The lake of the Presidium glittered beneath them. Far, far beneath them. 

“Focus,” Nihlus said. Without another word he got into a fighting stance, waiting for her to make the first move.

Jane stared at him in disbelief. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“No,” Nihlus said. 

“Are you crazy? If one of us gets a good hit in, the other is…” She glanced over the side, down at the lake. She remembered Netan talking about the physics of falling once; at a certain velocity, hitting water was exactly like hitting concrete. 

“Then don’t let me get a good hit in,” Nihlus said, as though the matter were simple.

_He’s insane_ , she thought. That veneer of calm and decorum masked an absolute lunatic, she decided. Jane didn’t want to do this. But she knew if she didn’t make the first move, he would. Better the fight begin on her terms; the idea of starting out on the defensive up here made her stomach turn. So Jane began to circle around his side, looking for an opening. He was watching her, waiting to block. 

She feinted, but he didn’t fall for it; he blocked her actual hit and used her momentum to almost trip her. Jane managed to recover. She turned and managed to get a punch in. Her fist connected with the softer flesh between his plates, where turians are most vulnerable. Nihlus paid her back in full with a swing to the head. Jane managed to stay on her feet, though her vision was swimming. He came at her again, punching her stomach hard enough to knock the wind out of her. 

Jane began to move back. She had to get away from him, just for a second, to recover and plan her next move- 

Her foot slipped over the edge, and she started to fall backwards. Jane let out a startled scream- only to have Nihlus grab her arm. 

“I’ve got you,” he said. He pulled her back on to the ledge and set a hand on her shoulder. “Be more careful.”

“Why are we even doing this up here?!” Jane demanded. 

“The environment forces you to think, and use the most of the amount of space you have,” Nihlus said. “It’s also excellent practice; Spectres don’t fight their enemies in gyms, usually. You’re on the street, or in a lab, or in some other inopportune environment. It’s good practice for when you become one.”

Jane frowned. There it was again. _When_ she became a Spectre- as though it was already set in stone. Ever since meeting Benezia, Jane had occasionally given thought to the question of what she wanted. It seemed like a stupid thing to even consider, and each time she tried to think of something she drew a blank. She didn’t have a passion, or any real hobbies outside of martial arts, shooting, and practicing with her biotics. She didn’t have time for anything else. Saren had ensured from a young age that her life would be completely engulfed in her training. At this point, what else could she do? 

“Something wrong?” Nihlus asked.

“Nothing you’d care about,” Jane grumbled.

“Try me,” he said. 

“I don’t want to talk about it, ok? Not with you,” she said. 

Nihlus seemed to consider for a moment, then decided to let the topic pass. “Well, I am ready to continue when you are.”

Jane glared at him. His politeness was really started to get under her skin. Part of her wondered if he was somehow mocking her. Turians were, as a rule, very formal, even with family and close friends. Though with Nihlus she couldn’t help but get the feeling he was being facetious. He probably thought he was better than her. He had a nice turian pedigree under his belt, and was Saren’s new favorite prodigy.

Well, she’d show him. Both of them.

Jane focused her energy, then charged at Nihlus with all of the biotic force she could manage. He tried to avoid her, but wasn’t quick enough. Her fist slammed into his stomach with enough force to wind him. But she didn’t relent. She slipped her leg behind him, and, using his spurs against him, tripped him on to his back. At the end of the assault Jane stood over him while Nihlus laid, half on and half on the ledge. 

And, to her surprise, he laughed. “Saren was understating a bit when he said you were competitive.” 

Jane stepped back, frowning. “What?”

Nihlus slowly got to his feet. “He said you were competitive and you’d push yourself harder if you had a rival. I see he was correct.”

Suddenly, it all made sense. _That_ was why he was praising Nihlus. Saren never had anything good to say about anyone. There was always something that could be improved, always something that didn’t live up to his standards. He talked up Nihlus to manipulate her! 

“I’m going to kill him!” Jane yelled, running her hands through her hair. 

“Saren?” Nihlus tilted his head slightly.

“Yes! He’s such a fucking asshole!” she shouted. “He knows I just want him to get off my back, to say that I’m not a piece of shit who’s wasting her life, and he used that against me! He wouldn’t shut up about you because he wanted to make me jealous! Ugh…”

Nihlus set a hand on her shoulder. “Saren doesn’t think you’re - and I'm using your words - a piece of shit who’s wasting her life.” 

“He has a funny way of showing it,” Jane grumbled.

“He’s very proud of you, actually,” Nihlus said. “He’ll die before he says so, but he is.” He offered her a small smile. “You know and I know that not praising is just Saren’s way- I had no idea he even liked me until I was told he’d put my name forward for the Spectres.” 

Yeah, that sounded like Saren. “He had a lot of good things to say about you to me.”

“And he had a lot of good things to say about you to me,” Nihlus said.

She looked at him. “…like what?”

“Well, he says your greatest strength is your heart,” he said. He sat down, hanging his legs off the edge. After a moment of consideration, Jane sat down beside him. “You have a very strong concept of justice, according to him. You genuinely want to help people.” He leaned back on to the heels of his hands, and for the first time Jane saw Nihlus Kryik relax. “You’re stubborn, which is both a good and a bad thing in his eyes. He says stubbornness is the father of perseverance, but also stupidity. So that one is a bit of a double-edged sword.”

Well, she’d take it. Jane sat with her legs crossed, staring at the skycars zooming past. “He said you were one of the most gifted Spectres he’s ever mentored. And he mentioned how great your bloodline is.”

Nihlus chuckled a bit at that. “My bloodline is a bit of a joke, honestly.”

“Your mother was from clan Adatus,” Jane said.

“And my father – whose name and marks I carry – was from clan Kryik,” Nihlus said. His mandibles flared slightly. “Have you ever heard much about clan Kryik?”

“…no,” she admitted. 

Nihlus nodded. “Most of them don’t even live in Hierarchy space. We’re outsiders.”

“No offense, but how did your mom and dad…?” It was unusual for someone from such an esteemed clan to marry someone from a clan no one had ever heard of. Turians liked to pretend they were past bloodline politics, but a person’s clan could mean the all the difference in the world. 

“I’ve never heard the whole story, but my mother still refers to me as her ‘happy accident,’” Nihlus said. “Their marriage didn’t last long.” 

Jane glanced down off of the ledge, unsure of what to say. She watched as the skycars zipped to and fro. “So. How’d you get to be the second youngest Spectre ever?”

“Saren,” Nihlus said. “My mother forced me into the military after my father died; I was acting recklessly. She was worried. She thought the military would give me something constructive to do.” He chuckled slightly. “I got the job done, but not the ‘turian way’. So I wasn’t getting very far in the meritocracy.” 

Ah, yes, the mortal flaw of the turian military. They didn’t like it when you played fast and loose with strategy- even if it ended up paying off in the end. Risks were not to be taken, orders were not to be disobeyed. It didn’t matter what the outcome of your actions were; what mattered was that you hadn’t done things correctly. “So how’d you meet Saren?”

“I was out on a mission with my squad, and Saren was sent to assist,” Nihlus said. “I guess I impressed him. From there he took me under his wing. One year later, here I am.”

“I’m sorry about your father,” Jane said. 

Nihlus shrugged. “It was a couple of years ago. Having Saren around helped. In some ways he reminds me of my father.”

“Was your father a huge asshole?” Jane asked. She paused, realizing what she’d said. “Shit, I’m so-”

He started to laugh. Slowly, he shook his head. “No, my father wasn’t a huge asshole; but he was stern. Proud. He expected a lot from his children.” 

Not unlike Saren. Jane hugged her knees close to her chest. “Sorry about that, though. I mean…I love Saren. He raised me and everything. I don’t know where I’d be without him. But lately it’s like…it’s like nothing I do is good enough for him anymore. It’s frustrating.”

“It’ll be worth it in the end,” Nihlus said. “He’s just pushing you to be the best you can.”

“So that I can be the best Spectre,” she added resolutely.

Nihlus’s mandibles flared slightly in surprise. “…you don’t want to be a Spectre?”

“I don’t know,” Jane admitted with a sigh. “I don’t know what I want. All of my friends, they know what they’re doing. Zasin’s going to be an actor, Netan’s going to be a psychologist…everyone knows what they want. Everyone but me.”

“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t know what I wanted to do three years ago,” Nihlus said. “And I figured it out. These sorts of things…sometimes you just have to let them fall into place as they will. You’ll end up where you’re meant to.”

Jane smiled a little bit. She felt slightly reassured; though the idea of letting the cards fall where they may made her more nervous than anything. Not having control of a situation made her feel anxious. Not having control of her own life was even worse. But he was trying to help. That alone made it a little bit better. “You know, you’re not so bad, Nihlus.”

“So I’ve been told,” Nihlus replied. He smiled and stood up. “Now. If we get back to sparring, I can probably convince your instructor not to tell Saren you missed your lesson.”

Jane hopped to her feet. “Deal.”


	13. Counting Cars

Nihlus accompanied her back to the apartment for dinner once they were done with training. The doors to Saren’s study were, thankfully, closed. Jane didn’t want to talk to him; she knew that if she did, she’d call him out on his manipulation. And that would get both her and Nihlus in trouble. 

“What do you want to eat?” Jane asked, opening up the cupboards. She already planned her meal for the evening; chicken and pasta with some alfredo sauce, green onions, and mushrooms. 

“You know how to cook dextro food?” Nihlus seemed amused. 

“I guess I do. Saren hasn’t died from food poisoning,” she said, laying out the onions on a cutting board. “Yet.”

“ _Yet_ ,” Nihlus chuckled. “I can cook for myself, if you don’t mind me rummaging through your kitchen.”

Jane gestured for him to go ahead. “Go for it.” She grabbed a knife and started to slice the onions. “Who taught you how to cook?”

“My mother,” he said, opening one of the cabinets. “She made sure all of us knew how to cook. She said she didn’t want us living off of shit whenever we left home.” 

She glanced at him. “All of us?”

“Me, my sisters, and my half-brother,” Nihlus clarified. “My sisters are twins- and my mother was done with children after they were born.” He chuckled. “When she and my father separated, he remarried and had my little brother. He’s around your age, actually.”

Jane started to ask what it’s like to have siblings- only to stop herself. She knew what it was like to have siblings. She had a fucking twin brother. But when she tried to recall what he looked like, all she could think about was blood. Blood on his shirt, on his hands, reaching out for her with tears in his eyes-

She felt a sharp pain in her hand and yelped. When she looked down, blood was all over the cutting board. “Shit!”

Nihlus frowned. “Wash it out- I have some medi-gel.”

Jane rushed to the sink. The cut was fairly deep into her index finger. When she ran it under the water, her blood turned the sink a watery red. Nihlus came over and applied medi-gel to the cut. The bleeding stopped as the gel congealed, as did the stinging. Jane let out a sigh. “Thanks.”

“Be more careful,” Nihlus said. 

“Yeah,” Jane said. She turned back to the counter. There was blood all over the cutting board and onions- well, those were ruined. Sighing in irritation, she scraped the onions into the trashcan. She turned back to the sink to wash off the board- only to find Nihlus still looking at her. “What?”

He tilted his head slightly. “Are you…alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Jane said. She held up her hand, showing him the medi-gel on her finger. 

“No, I mean…” He paused. “You looked like you were somewhere else.”

Jane looked back down at the cutting board, suddenly very focused on her scrubbing technique. “I’m fine. My mind was just wandering.” 

Nihlus looked as though he wanted to say something, but decided against it. He turned back to his own meal. “Should I make some for Saren too?” His eyes cut towards the study door. 

She scoffed. “Don’t bother. He probably won’t come out.” For years she’d tried to get Saren to spend time with her when he was home- until he became so insufferable she began to avoid him altogether. Now Jane was grateful for the fact that whatever he kept in his office was more important than her. It kept Saren off of her back, at least. “Usually I just make him a plate and leave it on the counter. He’ll get it when he wants it.”

“This is typical?” Nihlus asked, looking back down at his work.

“Mhm. Has been for years,” Jane replied. “Ever since he brought that one artifact home.”

“Artifact?” Nihlus looked up again. He paused. “He’s mentioned that to me; he thinks it’s of synthetic origin. Geth-made, essentially.”

A geth artifact? Jane didn’t even want to imagine what sort of mission would send Saren past the Perseus Veil. Some things she was better off not knowing. “He told me it was the key to wiping out Cerberus; we had a lot of trouble with them when I was younger.” She wondered why they’d backed off in recent years. Had Saren done something? Or had they decided there were more important things than getting one child away from her turian guardian?

“I don’t know much about it,” Nihlus said. “He just mentioned he’d been studying it for some time.”

Jane looked towards the study. What was so important and complex that it took years of study to understand? “He’s kind of obsessed with it.”

“Best to stay away from it,” Nihlus said, as though reading her mind. “Whatever it is could be dangerous.”

Jane only nodded. Whatever it was, she hoped it was worth it. 

*

“You’re going to be late,” Saren said, not looking up from his datapad.

Jane resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Saren would see it, somehow, and then that would start an argument about respect. She shoved her tablet into her bag. “I’ve still got time.”

“You need to get to school early and discuss your history grade with your professor,” Saren said. He looked up. It wasn’t a suggestion, but an order. “I checked your marks; you’ve fallen from Exemplary to Exceeding.”

“Exceeding is still passing, you know,” Jane said. She fiddled with buttons on her uniform. Spirits, she couldn’t wait until she could graduate and burn this damn thing. “It’s actually above average. That’s why it’s called _Exceeding_. I don’t have to be perfect in everything, you know.”

Saren frowned. “Yes, you do. You’re capable of doing better, so you should.”

“I’m doing my best, ok? Maybe if you’d cut back on my lessons, I could spend more time studying,” Jane said. 

“You need to be able to balance both,” Saren said. 

_Yes, balance being a soldier and a kid at the same time_ , Jane thought. _It’s easy._ “Did Desitis expect you to go through boot camp and school at the same time? Or did he, you know, give you time to have a life outside of being perfect?”

“You do have a life,” Saren said. 

“No, I don’t! My life is school, homework, and training! Training for something I’m not even sure I want to _do_!” Jane turned and shouted at him. She froze. Oh, shit. Not only had she yelled at him – actually _yelled_ – she’d told him she didn’t want to be a Spectre. But it was too late now. There was no taking it back.

Saren stood up. His words came out slowly, as though he were fighting to keep calm. “You have been trained for this since you were eight years old. I’m not going to let you throw away your potential, and I’m certainly not going to let you throw away seven years of preparation.”

“And what I want is secondary, isn’t it?” Jane snapped. “Isn’t it? Just say it- you don’t give a damn about what I want. You never have.”

“And what _do_ you want, Jane?” Saren demanded. 

Once again, Jane found herself unable to answer the question. She was fifteen years old, and she still had no idea what she wanted to do with her life. Jane bit her lip, frustrated, and grabbed her bag. Without another word she stormed out of the apartment. 

*

“You know, I’m leaving tomorrow,” Nihlus said, sitting down beside her. “Meaning I cannot come up with reasons why you aren’t at your lessons forever.”

Jane said nothing. Rather than going to her shooting lesson with Volio, she’d gone to the ledge where she and Nihlus had had their first sparring session. Why, she wasn’t certain; she’d just wanted to go somewhere where no one would bother her. Though some small part of her was impressed Nihlus managed to guess where she was. 

“I got into a fight with Saren this morning,” Jane said.

“From what I’ve been told, that’s not entirely unusual,” Nihlus said. He tilted his head. “What was different about this one?”

“I don’t know,” Jane sighed. “It just- I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I want. I know what Saren wants. He wants me to become a damn Spectre and be perfect all the time at everything. And I’m tired of it. I just want to be normal for once in my life.”

Nihlus listened to her and said nothing. Then, after a moment of contemplation, he glanced out towards the Presidium. “You know what I like to do when I get frustrated?”

“What?” Jane asked.

“Count,” Nihlus said.

“…you count,” Jane repeated. “Count what?”

Nihlus shrugged. “Whatever’s around. When my family lived on a station, my brother and I used to count the ships coming into the port. I’d count all the turian-made, he’d count all the human-made. Whoever counted the most ‘won’.”

“What’d you win? Bragging rights?” Jane asked.

“Not even that,” Nihlus said. “Just satisfaction.” He looked towards the skycars, whizzing by above and below them. “I count the blue, you count the red?”

“…sure,” Jane said. She leaned back on her hands, watching the stream of cars. It seemed like a boring way to pass the time. But as she watched the cars go by, she realized she was focusing on them. Her eyes scanned the traffic for red skycars; all thoughts of her argument with Saren faded into the background. Jane found herself smiling. She pointed and said, “Red one.”

“Blue,” Nihlus said, nodding to a car that zipped past. “Another blue.” 

“Red. Red. Red,” Jane said, pointing out each one as they went past. They sat there for two hours, saying nothing, just counting cars. The silence in between their declarations of “red” or blue” was a comfortable one. And as Nihlus walked her home – still saying nothing – Jane found herself more at peace than she had been in a time. Focusing on something that wasn’t related to her training or her schoolwork or Saren had been…peaceful. Relaxing, even. 

“Do you know when you’ll be back on the Citadel?” Jane asked as they neared the apartment.

“Soon, hopefully,” Nihlus said. 

“You’ll stay in touch, right?” Jane raised her eyebrows.

He smiled. “As much as I can. And when I get back, I expect your fighting style not to be so…sloppy.”

She punched his shoulder. “You’re on, Kryik.”

Nihlus chuckled. “Take care, Jane; and try to go easy on Saren. He-”

“-only wants what’s best for me, yeah,” Jane said. She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have a galaxy to go save?”

“I won’t be saving the _galaxy_ ,” Nihlus replied. He paused, as though considering something. “A couple of systems, max.”

Jane smirked and shook her head. “Well, go on. And prepare to get your ass beat when you get back.”

Nihlus turned to go, chuckling quietly. “I look forward to it.”


	14. Sleepwalking

She was standing on Mindoir.

A gust of dry wind blew past, kicking up red dust. Off in the distance she could see her childhood home; a rickety farmhouse, its paneling stained by the red dust that blew across the plains. Waist high grass swayed gently in the wind. 

“Jane!”

Someone yelled her name. Who it was, she couldn’t it say; it could have been her mother, but it just as easily could have been Saren. 

“Hello?” she called out in response.

“Jane!”

It was coming from the house. She started running towards it. Suddenly a sense of urgency hit her. Jane looked back over her shoulder. Batarians with bloody gashes in their heads were running after her, their cloudy dead eyes narrowed at her in complete hatred. Jane let out a scream and started running faster. About halfway to the house, she tripped over something. One of her shoes flew off, and she scraped her knee. 

“Jane…” John whispered. He was lying on the ground, blood pooling around him. He reached out to her with a dark red palm. “Help…”

All she could do was stare at him, panicked. Then, glancing at the encroaching batarians, she turned and sprinted away. Her heart was pounding in her ears by the time she reached the porch. Someone inside was still calling her name. Jane tried to open the screen door, but it refused to budge. She let out a terrified sob and rattled the door. Blood made her hands slippery and slick. Her heart was beating so fast it was painful.

“Jane!”

“DADDY!” she screamed. She pounded on the door. Jane looked back and saw the batarians running up the path towards the porch. “DADDY, LET ME IN! DADDY! DADDY!” 

“JANE!”

The door opened, and she fell forward. 

_“JANE!”_

*

When she opened her eyes, she was leaning against Saren. It took her a moment to get her bearings. They were standing in the doorway of his office. His arms were wrapped protectively around her. Her face was wet- was she crying?

“What…” she began. 

“You were sleepwalking,” Saren said. He held her at arm’s length so he could examine her, as though she might be somehow injured or ill. “You were pounding on the door and screaming for me.” 

Jane thought back to the dream. The batarians. Tripping over her dying twin brother. She swallowed down more tears and wiped her eyes. “I…I’ve never sleepwalked before. I don’t…” She looked up into Saren’s eyes, trying to find some sort of comfort. “I had a dream about- about Mindoir, and they were chasing me, and I left John, I left him-”

“Hush,” Saren said firmly, but gently. He pulled her close again, setting his hand on the top of her head. “Hush; your dreams can’t hurt you.” 

She clung to Saren, allowing herself to draw comfort from him. It’d been years since she’d had a dream about her family. It was so vivid. Before she’d only been able to faintly recall their faces. Now they were screaming at the forefront of her mind, every detail suddenly as sharp and clear as though she’d seen them yesterday. She’d forgotten about them and they had come back to haunt her as punishment. 

“Go back to bed, Jane,” Saren said. He pressed his forehead against hers in an extremely rare show of affection. It was enough to almost instantaneously calm her, which was the point she supposed. “You’ll be alright.”

Jane nodded slowly. She stepped back. It was strange; Saren hadn’t been this nurturing since before her fourteenth birthday. Part of her was half-expecting a lecture on how being an adult means behaving like one, but he offered no such thing. All he did was give her a slight nod and glanced back into the office behind him. Jane turned and walked back down the darkened hallway towards her room. When she laid down, she was calmer than she had been- but when she closed her eyes again, she saw the faces of her family and of the dead batarians staring back at her.

*

The onslaught of calls began two weeks later, early on the morning of her sixteenth birthday. 

First, of course, was Gran. 

Her face appeared on the vid screen. Her plates were a bit more worn and cracked than they had been last time she’d seen her, and her markings had faded so much Jane could scarcely see them. But her mandibles spread into a smile, and Jane grinned back at her. “Happy birthday, dear.”

“Thank you, Gran,” she said. 

“Did you get my present?” Gran asked, lowering her voice to an almost conspiratorial tone. Turian families stopped giving their children gifts after they went through their coming of age. But great-grandmothers, Jane supposed, operated on different rules. The package had come the day before; it was full of sweets, cookies, and a dress that Saren wouldn’t ever let her wear so long as he lived. 

“Yes,” Jane said, dropping her voice as well. She grinned. She didn’t know why she bothered – Saren had left on a mission a week prior. He wasn’t home, and the secret gift was stashed safely in her closet. But it felt as though he would still somehow find out if she wasn’t careful. “Thanks; Saren never lets me have any junk food.”

Gran chuckled. “I figured. Everyone needs to satisfy their sweet tooth now and then. And the dress? Does it fit?”

“Like a glove,” Jane said. “Saren wouldn’t ever let me out of the apartment with it on, though.”

“Well then you’ll just have to sneak out,” Gran said, grinning mischievously.

“Gran!” Jane laughed. “You’re a terrible influence!”

“No one’s an angel growing up, Jane,” Gran said. “Do you know how many times I snuck out with your great-grandfather? Or with my other boyfriends?” She let out a self-satisfied purr at Jane’s laughter. “Why are you laughing? Your gran was quite the looker when she was young! There were plenty of strapping young turians chasing after me.”

“How’d you choose?” Jane asked, raising an eyebrow.

“The Arterius men have a certain way about them,” Gran answered with a shrug. She smiled again. “But you don’t want to listen to an old crone like me go on about her glory days; you go out and enjoy yourself today.”

Jane smiled softly. “Thanks, Gran.”

“Not a problem, darling; happy birthday. I love you,” Gran said. 

“I love you too.” Jane smiled.

Not ten minutes later, Netan called her. She’d completed all of her courses at Lenai Academy, and had returned to the salarian home world of Sur’Kesh to further her education. Not long after they’d finished talking, Zasin called. While he, like her, was still going to the Academy, he was spending the weekend at some sort of theatre workshop. He wished her a very happy birthday and promised to make up for missing it when he returned to the Citadel. Shortly after that, Vellia, Lutadaia, and Tulea called her from boot camp. They’d all turned sixteen, and were thus all sent off to boot camp to begin their mandatory two years of military service. They laughed and jostled each other, trying to get the best position in front of the camera. But Jane couldn’t help but feel slightly alienated watching them; she would not be going to boot camp, because she was human. It felt as though she were missing out on something vital; her friends would return changed, and Jane would miss out on two years worth of experiences that they would have shared.

When the call ended, she was left feeling slightly more melancholy than she had before.

That was until Nihlus’s name appeared on her screen.

She answered immediately. “Nihlus! I thought you said you were on radio silence!”

“I finished the mission much quicker than anticipated,” he replied. In the background, she heard someone yelling something. He sighed. “My apologies; we’re having a family get-together. It’s my sisters’ birthday as well.”

“Happy birthday to us, then,” Jane said with a grin. 

There was a bit more yelling, and Nihlus sighed and looked off-camera. “I’m on a call, Mother!”

Whatever his mother shouted in response, Jane couldn’t make out. But she giggled as Nihlus let out another exasperated sigh. “We can talk later if you’re busy.”

“No, it’s fine, my family is just being obnoxious,” Nihlus said with a slight smile. “How’s your birthday been so far? I don’t think you had class today, did you?”

She shook her head. “No. I’ve mostly just been lazing around all day and talking to people on call.” Jane smiled. “When are you going to come by so I can kick your ass?”

Nihlus chuckled. “As soon as I’m able; if you’re free tomorrow, we could meet. I think I should be able to escape long enough. Unless you and Saren have something planned?” At her silence, Nihlus paused. “Ah, I suppose he’s on a mission, then? My apologies. If I’d known you were alone, I would have invited you to come celebrate with us.”

“It’s fine, Nihlus,” she said, smiling a little bit. “This isn’t the first birthday he’s missed; I think I’ll live.”

There was a crashing sound on Nihlus’s end, followed by a chorus of _“NOVUS!”_ Nihlus looked off-screen and let out a weary sigh. “And that would be my brother breaking something else with his newfound biotics. Wonderful.” He looked back towards her. “I’ll have to call you back later, Jane. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Yep. Meet at the usual place,” Jane said. 

“It’s a date then.” Nihlus smiled, and with that he ended the call.

Jane spent the rest of the day curled up in her bed, watching vids. No other calls came through. She waited, occasionally checking the time. The clock hit midnight on the Citadel. She waited. The clock hit midnight on Mindoir. She waited. The clock hit midnight on Earth, and she was forced to accept the fact that Saren wasn’t going to call. It was officially no longer her birthday on any planet or station that mattered to her.

She laid down in bed and stared at the picture she kept of them on her nightstand. It was from her coming of age ceremony. Saren was standing behind her, one hand resting on her shoulder, head raised high and mandibles spread in a proud smile. Jane had a relieved and joyful grin on her face, happy that it was all finally over and that Saren was pleased. It was the last birthday he’d been present for. 

_Maybe he has to be on radio silence_ , Jane thought. She rolled over and tucked an arm underneath her pillow. _That’s gotta be it._

But, deep down, she knew that wasn’t the case. Saren had forgotten her birthday for the second year in a row.


	15. Something Wrong

_Something wrong._

He looked at the artifact – a mechanical, faintly glowing sphere. He was so close. So close to finding out what it was. What it meant. The sphere itself could be activated by pressing down on to a switch at the top. The sphere would then extend four spindly metal arms and reveal a soft, pulsing blue light. It also emitted some sort of signal; the hundreds of scans he’d performed on the damn thing had revealed that much. The nature of the signal and its purpose, however, still eluded him.

_You know there’s something wrong with this, Saren._

Yes, he did. But it was so difficult to put his finger on; perhaps he shouldn’t have killed the scientists he’d taken this from. Their research would have most likely sped this process- but he couldn’t risk leaving them alive. 

_Something wrong._

It was strange. He’d been studying this thing for years, not even halting his research when he and Jane went to Palaven for her coming of age. And though nothing he’d found had given him a reason to think this artifact was dangerous, he still felt as though there was something inherently menacing about it. Saren set the sphere down on his desk and pulled up his notes. He scanned over them, feeling as though there was something he was missing. A piece of the puzzle wasn’t clicking the way it should. 

The metal was a strange alloy that he had never seen before; tough as steel, but it wasn’t. Endeavors to find the origin had proved fruitless. Initially this lent itself to the theory that this artifact was made by the geth; they would no doubt have access to whatever mineral deposits and mines rested behind the Perseus Veil. 

The signal it gave off was encrypted, another feature that once reinforced the idea that this was made by the geth. It took years to decode the signal itself- and now that it was cracked, Saren still couldn’t make any sense of it. 

_Something familiar._

Saren looked to the artifact, frowning. Perhaps it was because he’d been studying the damn thing for years now, but something about it did seem familiar. Familiar in the worst sort of way…

Something banged against the door, causing Saren to jump. Then the screaming started, and Saren let out a long sigh. Jane was sleepwalking again. He stood and opened the door. Jane was standing there, eyes open but not focused, not really seeing him. But instead of falling into his arms like she normally did, she darted into the office. She ran to the desk, her hands outstretched towards the artifact, and Saren’s heart practically stopped. 

“Don’t touch that!” he shouted. He grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her off the ground. He couldn’t let her touch that thing, even having her in the same room as it- no. No, he wouldn’t allow it. Saren carried her out of the office, noting in the back of his mind how much easier it used to be. She was still a head shorter than him, but lifting her now took work. He set her down in the living room, and she stared at him tearfully.

“I did it again, didn’t I?” she asked finally.

“Yes, you did,” Saren said, frowning. “You ran into my office.”

“I was dreaming it was my house,” she said quietly. “My old one- on Mindoir. There was a pistol on the counter, and I was going to…I don’t know. Defend myself.”

That was why she made a grab for it, then. Saren frowned and turned to glance back at the open door of his office. The soft blue light from the artifact dimly illuminated the room, casting everything in shadows. He shook his head and looked back down to Jane. “Go back to bed, Jane; your dreams can’t hurt you.”

“Can’t I just sit out here for a while?” she asked. “I don’t want to go back to sleep.”

Saren felt a flash of anger. Spirits above, why was she acting so childish? He thought he’d broken her of these habits. “I said go back to bed, Jane.”

“No,” she said. 

“What did you say?” Saren growled. Lately, she was becoming far too rebellious for his tastes. It seemed like everything she did, she did to purposefully infuriate him. 

“I just want to sit out here! What’s so wrong with that?” she demanded.

“That’s not the point, Jane; I told you to do something, so do it,” he said. 

“And why is your word suddenly the law of the galaxy?” Jane stood up. She glared at him with those haunting green eyes. Spirits, he hated her eyes. He’d see them in his dreams, just staring at him. Even now, after years of living with a turian and being raised in turian culture, Jane’s eyes still betrayed her every emotion and, sometimes, the very nature of her spirit itself. Saren suddenly got the urge to make her stop looking at him, to strike her, even raised his hand-

 _Stop!_ He thought, startling himself. _What am I doing?_

He frowned and lowered his hand, somewhat ashamed of even considering striking her. The feeling only deepened when he saw the shock and hurt in her eyes; she hadn’t missed the sudden raising of his hand, nor was she blind to what it meant. The only time Saren ever hit Jane was when he was sparring with her, because otherwise she’d never learn how to fight. If he wanted to punish her, he had other methods; turians believed physically striking your children as a method of disciplining was a sign of bad parenting. If you could only control your child via your own strength, you weren’t fit to be a parent. 

“My word,” he said slowly, “is _your_ law. I took you in, I raised you, and until you’re grown, you will do as I say. Do you understand me, Jane?”

She wouldn’t look at him now, and he grabbed her arm tightly. 

“I said,” he growled, “do you understand me?”

“You’re hurting me,” she said. 

“Answer me,” Saren said.

“STOP IT, SAREN!” Jane jerked away from his grip. “WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE THIS?! WHAT DID I DO?! WHAT DID I DO TO MAKE YOU HATE ME!?”

“I am trying to do what’s best for you, Jane,” Saren replied. He fought to keep his voice calm and quiet. Part of him wanted to yell back, to shove her, to make her listen to him. But she was still his little girl, no matter how much she acted out. “One day, you’ll understand that. Now I will not repeat myself: Go. To. Bed.”

Jane looked at him, those green eyes filling with angry tears. But she turned and stormed back to her room. When he heard the doors of her bedroom close, Saren let out a frustrated growl. 

_You need to control her._

Yes, he did.

*

Saren was beginning to fall asleep. His head was drooping down against his carapace, and the soft blue light the artifact emitted no longer seemed vaguely threatening. It was almost soothing. His eyes began to drift closed, and sleep seemed not far off…

When his omni-tool began to go off, calling Saren right back to wakefulness.

He let out a sigh – because, of course, spirits forbid he get a moment’s rest – and answered the call.

Volio’s face appeared on the screen. He and Saren had known each other back in boot camp, and Volio had (as everyone predicted) gone on to become one of the Hierarchy’s most deadly snipers. Why he’d retired at such a young age, Saren didn’t know; it wasn’t his business to ask. Besides, it had worked out to his benefit. Or rather, Jane’s. She was a master with a gun thanks to Volio’s years of tutelage. 

“Sorry to bother you, Arterius,” Volio said. “I just wanted to check in on Jane.”

Saren’s mandibles flared. “Check in on her?” He glanced at the time. It was well into the afternoon; she should not only be out of class by now, but also at her lessons. With Volio. “She’s not with you, is she?”

“Nope, that’d be why I’m calling,” Volio said. His mandibles spread in an amused half-grin. “Guess she decided to give herself the day off.”

“It’s not funny,” Saren snapped. 

“She’s still a kid, Saren,” Volio said. “We weren’t angels at her age, either. Remember that time you and Destivea snuck off during marching drills-”

Saren cut him off with an irritated snort. “All the more reason for her to not repeat my mistakes. If she turns up, let me know.”

Volio paused for a moment, tilting his head as he looked at Saren. He seemed to be contemplating something. Then he said, “Saren, are you…alright? I know we haven’t talked in a while, but you seem- I don’t know, different. Is there something going on?”

“No, there’s nothing going on,” Saren replied. He shook his head. “I’ll speak with you later, Volio. I’ll compensate you for your time; I’m sorry Jane wasted it.”

Volio shrugged. “I’m not upset about it. I just hope she’s actually skipping and there isn’t something wrong.” He chuckled a bit and shook his head. “But knowing her, it’s the first; I’ll see you later, Arterius.”

“Goodbye,” Saren said. He ended the call there. Spirits. Cutting her lessons, talking back…who was this child? When he took her in, Saren knew it wasn’t going to be easy. He was on his own, with no spouse to aid him. Not only that, but Jane was a completely different species. But he’d always managed it before; now, as she got older, it seemed she was becoming more and more unruly. Saren was beginning to worry she was throwing away both her potential and the bright future that was before her.

_Protect her from herself._

Frowning, he pulled up Jane’s number on his omni-tool and called it. She did not answer. He called again. No answer. Beginning to become infuriated, Saren dialed again. This time, the call was flat out rejected- a sure-fire sign she was ignoring him. 

Oh, she was going to get it. 

*

Jane returned home past curfew. She walked in with her head held high, defiant as ever. Saren was waiting for her in the living room. 

“You missed your lesson,” he said, standing up. 

“I’m not going to them anymore,” Jane said. She crossed her arms.

Saren actually laughed. It was amusing, in a way; she thought she had a say in this. But so long as she lived with him, she would do as he said. Whether she liked it or not. “Yes, you are; you’re going to go if I have to drag you there myself.”

“You’re gone all the time,” Jane said, putting a hand on her hip. “You won’t be able to.”

“So someone else will do it in my stead,” Saren snapped. “The point is, Jane, you’re going. I don’t know why you’ve started to act like this, but it ends now. You are an Arterius. You are an adult. Act like one.”

Jane glared at him. “My behavior has changed? You’re the one who keeps changing! Every time you’re home, it’s like you resent me a little more! Nothing I do is good enough anymore. I’m sick of it, Saren! I’m tired of being the perfect soldier and the perfect daughter- or whatever the _fuck_ I am to you!”

“QUIET!” Saren shouted. He walked towards her, and she took a step back. She was intimidated, scared. Good. It was clear now he’d been far too lenient with her. That ended now. Saren grabbed her arm and squeezed it tightly. “As long as you live here, you will do as I say. You will go to your classes. You will go to your training. You will come home, and you will do your homework. You will do as I say, and you will speak to me with respect. Do you understand me?”

Jane said nothing. She just glared at him, angry tears in her eyes. 

“Do. You. Understand. Me?” Saren said, squeezing her arm.

“Yes,” she said.

He squeezed her arm again. 

“ _Sir_.”

Saren released her. “Go to bed.”

She did so without a word. Saren watched her go, then turned and went into his office. He sat down at his desk and let out a long sigh. For a time he sat and contemplated the argument. Perhaps she was right; perhaps he wasn’t giving her enough credit where credit was due. Jane was a fine young warrior. And it was in the nature of teenagers to rebel against their parents. He remembered fights he had with his father. Though they were nothing compared to his quarrels with Desolas.

The thought of Desolas sobered him slightly. What would his elder brother think of all this, he wondered? What would his advice be?

Saren looked towards the artifact. He picked it up and activated it. Some research might take his mind off of things. He activated the artifact, extending the spindly arms and bathing the study in that soft blue light. Once again he began to run tests on the signal that was being emitted from the artifact. The more he looked at the readings, the more familiar it seemed. There was something about all of this…

_Something wrong._

And then, it hit him. 

Desolas. The Monolith. This artifact. 

Saren stared at the artifact in his hands, amazed he didn’t notice the similarities in the design before. They weren’t exactly the same, but he was certain that this was made by the same species. But the Monolith had been buried deep in Palaven; it must have been there for thousands of years. It was now quite clear it was impossible for this to be of geth origin; this artifact likely predated the geth by a few millennia.

Then who made it? And why?

Saren turned his attention to the readings. He poured over the signal. It obviously had a different function than the Monolith. The Monolith drove people mad, and turned people into mindless super soldiers. This did something else. For hours, Saren went over the readings and the decoded signal. 

_Something familiar._

He found himself reminded of one of his first Spectre missions. It was a surveillance mission of a terrorist base. He spent the majority of it planting bugs and a beacon, so that the Council would know where the base was when it was time for it to be raided. Saren remembered crouching beside the newly planted beacon, tapping into the signal to ensure it was working.

“It’s a beacon,” Saren realized, murmuring the words aloud. 

A beacon. This thing was calling someone- whoever created it, most likely. The realization made Saren’s blood run cold. Saren believed he was safe from Desolas’s fate; it took mere weeks for Desolas to transform into a raving monster. He’d been studying this thing for years, and he was fine. But if they were made by the same people…

 _I need to get this out of the apartment_ , Saren thought. _It’s too dangerous to keep around Jane._

Spirits, she’d almost _touched_ the damn thing. Saren frowned and set the artifact on his desk. But the thing that disturbed him most, out of all of this, was the question of who made this thing. How did it survive for this long? For what purpose was it made? 

_Excellent questions, Saren._

_Why don’t you find out?_


	16. Bad Moon Rising

“What happened?” Zasin asked, looking up from his tray of food.

Jane frowned as she sat down across from him. “How’d you know something was wrong?”

Her friend scoffed. She could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “We’ve been friends for years, Jane; I know when something’s up. Besides, quarians are experts at reading body language. We sort of have to be.” He made a gesture with his fork, indicating for her to explain. “So go on.”

Jane sighed. “I had a fight with Saren-”

“Well, that was a given-” 

“Do you want to know or not?” she snapped.

Zasin held up his hands in surrender. “Ok, ok, sorry. I’ll be quiet.”

For a moment Jane just glared at him, then she sighed. What was she doing? Zasin was only trying to help- she shouldn’t take out her anger and frustration on him. Especially not now. With the rest of her friends gone and Nihlus off-radar most of the time, Zasin was the only person she could really talk to. “Sorry. I shouldn’t bite your head off over this; it’s Saren’s fault, not yours.”

“It’s alright,” he assured her. “I get it. Now, what happened?”

“It was just the usual,” Jane said. “I had this- I don’t know, this nightmare, and I was sleepwalking again. And when I woke up I didn’t want to go back to sleep, and he got so angry about it. For no reason! He was going to _hit_ me!”

Zasin tilted his head to one side, alarmed. “Did he?”

“No,” Jane said. “He just gave me this lecture about how he took me in so I have to do everything he says, and that he knows what’s best for me.” She stabbed her fork into her meal; for once, it was actually human food. Now that there were more human students coming into the Academy, they’d actually begun to put human dishes on the menu every now and then. “I can’t take much more of this. I’m going to go insane. But I don’t even know what I want- I’m this close to graduating and I have no idea what I’m going to do with my life. None.”

Her friend paused and considered for a moment. “Well, think about what you’re good at and what you like.”

“I’m good at fighting. Shooting. Using my biotics,” she said a bit glumly. The perfect soldier, just what Saren had wanted. 

“And what do you like?” Zasin asked.

“Helping people.” The answer came so suddenly and naturally it surprised her. But the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. When she was little, she would pretend she was protecting Saren or her home at her lessons. She’d stood up to the kids that had bullied Zasin. Jane hated having to sit on her hands and do nothing. 

Zasin seemed to brighten a bit at her answer. “C-Sec, maybe?”

“Saren wouldn’t allow it,” Jane said, shaking her head.

“Fuck what Saren thinks,” Zasin said.

She stared at him, her eyes wide. Zasin had always been soft-spoken. Granted, as they grew older, he had become bolder. But this was on a completely different level. Jane wasn’t even sure she’d heard him swear before that moment. “Zasin-”

“When my mom left the Flotilla to become an actress, her mother was furious. I’m the only reason they even talk to each other,” Zasin said. “But my mother had a dream. She knew what she wanted, and she went after it. Now she’s very successful and happy with her life. Everyone has to make their own choices eventually, Jane. ‘The powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse-’ you can’t let Saren write it for you.”

Jane furrowed her brow. “You lost me at the play.”

“Really?” Zasin sighed. “Whitman is a human poet, Jane- you should know that one.”

“Bite me,” Jane replied, shoveling some food into her mouth. “Do you know every single quarian poet?”

“All the important ones, yes,” Zasin said. “‘The powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.’ It means that everyone gets to leave a bit of their own story behind. A handprint on the history of the galaxy. Saren has his verse, you have yours. You need to figure out what you want it to say. What you want your legacy to be. Do you want to be someone who did exactly as her father told her, and never lived her life the way she wanted? Or do you want to be your own person?”

“Dating Daia has corrupted you,” Jane said, smiling just slightly. “You weren’t this outspoken before you two got together.”

Zasin shrugged. “She just taught me how to speak my mind. But really, though; give it some thought. It’s about time you started writing your own verse.”

“Yeah,” Jane said, “maybe it is.”

*

The idea hit Jane as she was walking home from her biotics training. (She’d decided to go to them so long as Saren was on the Citadel; when he left, he’d have no way of punishing her for missing them until he returned.) She was walking through the Presidium, passing the same stores and offices that had been there since she was a child. As she passed the old diner, the place where she and Saren sometimes ate dinners together, she cast it a forlorn look. She remembered downing an entire burger in a grand total of four bites there, and Saren had laughed till he almost cried. When was the last time she’d even made him smile, she wondered?

Then, strangely, Jane noticed something new.

An old jewelry store, one that had closed down a couple years ago, was suddenly open again- but it had been renovated into an office. The sign above the doors read: ALLIANCE RECRUITER OFFICE. A vid screen showed a brief advertisement. A human man held a datapad as he walked, talking with important-looking officials as he did so. It cut to a woman in armor holding a child as they were air-lifted away from a flood. Then the screen showed the man and woman walking side-by-side, dressed in Alliance uniforms, the sigil of the Systems Alliance appearing behind them. A banner of text appeared at their feet: _Make a difference. Join the Alliance today._

Jane paused in front it, watching as the ad looped. It seemed so strange to her. When she’d first come to the Citadel, there were barely any humans to be seen. But in just a few short years, her species was just as prevalent as any of the other races. If not more so than some. 

“Can I help you?” 

Jane looked up. A man was standing in the doorway. He was in an Alliance uniform, and seemed to be a bit older. His brown hair was streaked with gray, and there were lines around his eyes. But he had an amused half-smile that made him seem strangely approachable. 

“I was just looking,” she said.

“Interested in joining up?” he asked. 

“I…” Jane, surprisingly, found herself tempted to say yes. She would never be a soldier of the Hierarchy. Even if Saren somehow managed to manipulate her into the service, she wouldn’t ever be promoted. Meritocracy or not, there was a good degree of politics involved. She could be the best damn soldier in the galaxy and no one would promote her past Private First Class. But with the Alliance, she’d have a shot. She could actually make a difference. “I don’t know.”

“Want to step in and talk about it? I’m bored out of my mind in here,” said the man.

Jane hesitated, then nodded. “Sure.”

He gestured for her to follow into the office. Inside everything had a strange sense of newness to it, as though they had only just gotten everything settled. The man sat down behind a desk. “So, what’s your name?”

“Jane,” she said. She opted not to say her last name; no doubt that would set off some alarm bells.

“Rear Admiral James Nilson,” the man said. He reached across the table and shook her hand. 

“Rear Admiral?” Jane suddenly felt as though she should be standing at attention. Her back must have straightened automatically, because Nilson started to laugh.

“I’m retired, kid,” he said. “For the most part. Why else would I be here? Mindoir did me in last year. Batarian got a thermal clip right in my knee cap.” Nilson patted his knee.

Jane perked up a bit. “You’ve been to Mindoir?”

“Oh yeah,” he said. “I was part of the patrol that stopped that huge raid a year ago. So they gave me a medal and a desk job.” He patted the desk in question and smirked. 

Jane had heard about the raid, which happened not long after her sixteenth birthday. Thousands of people’s homes were destroyed, and a couple hundred were dead or missing. It was the worst raid that had ever happened on the colony. She hadn’t been able to look at the newsfeeds for two weeks after it happened. Each time she saw images of the destruction, bad memories began to boil up to the surface. “It’s awful, what happened…”

“Yeah, yeah it is,” Nilson said. “But it would have been worse had we not been there.” 

_Make a difference_ , she echoed silently.

“So, how would someone go about joining up?” Jane asked.

He handed her a datapad. “You’d have to go through a physical and psychological evaluation first. Then you’d sign a four year service contract- though you have to be eighteen.” Nilson looked her over, one eyebrow raised. “Are you?”

“Seventeen,” she said. She scrolled through the info on the datapad. It talked about boot camp, and the various programs that young humans could enroll in. One would let you go to college and have the Alliance pay for it. That, though, required an eight year service contract to be signed upon graduation. 

“You’d need your parent’s to sign too, then,” Nilson said. “Or wait till you’re eighteen.”

_Hell would freeze over before Saren signed off on that_ , Jane thought. 

“But hey, it’s never too early to consider,” Nilson said. “You’d sign your contract and go immediately to boot camp on Earth. That lasts about half a solar year – if you don’t specialize in a specific field and require more training, anyway – and then you receive your first assignment. From there, what happens is up to you. You could work your way to the N7 program, or spend a few years behind a desk and retire as an N2.”

“What’s an N7?” Jane asked, raising an eyebrow.

Nilson grinned. “The best of the best. They’re the Alliances’ elite operatives- a bit like Spectres, but with much more regulation.” He paused. “Have you never really heard of N7’s, kid?”

“I’m from a colony,” Jane said. It wasn’t _technically_ a lie. “It’s sort of remote.”

He shrugged. “Well, all the same. If you’re interested, I can transfer the rest of the info to your omni-tool. Talk it over with your parents; the Alliance might be good for you.”

Jane smiled, just a bit. “Yeah, maybe.”

*

Later that night, Jane was still pouring over the information Nilson gave her. She didn’t fear getting caught up past her bedtime- Saren was mysteriously absent from the apartment. The door to his office was open when she’d come home, and it had been completely empty. Perhaps he’d been called away on a mission and simply hadn’t told her. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence these days.

So she sat there, reading through page after page of information. She watched a couple of vids. Some were testimonials from Alliance officers and commanders talking about their experiences. Others were the stories of people they’d helped. Jane found herself strangely drawn to the idea of the Alliance. There, she could make a difference. She could help people, so that no other little girl had to watch her family die. She could do it in a way that was regulated and controlled- where there was no chance of her becoming ruthless and unrelenting. 

But, suddenly, she heard footsteps.

For a moment she flashed back to the night when Cerberus operatives had broken into their home. But she knew these footsteps were Saren’s; the sound was as familiar to her as her own voice. Jane quickly shut off her omni-tool and curled up in bed. The last thing she needed was to start another fight with him. 

Her door opened, and Jane closed her eyes. She tried her best to make her breathing appear even. Part of her expected Saren to start yelling at her for being awake, but there was only prolonged silence.

After a good minute of nothing, Jane risked cracking her eyes open just a bit. She could see Saren’s blurry outline leaning in the doorway. He was just…staring at her. Why? Was he waiting for her to give up the act and admit she was awake?

“Spirits help me,” he said quietly. 

The words were barely above a whisper, and she realized they weren’t meant for her. Saren began to walk into her room, and Jane squeezed her eyes shut again.

“How am I supposed to stop something like this?” Saren said. He sounded…sad? Nervous? No- 

Saren sounded _scared_.

Jane’s chest suddenly felt tight. Never in her life had she seen Saren frightened. Even when a Cerberus agent held a gun to his head, he’d barely been shocked. What could be so awful that it would scare Saren? What was happening? Was the Citadel about to explode?

“How am I supposed to protect you?” Saren said softly. 

Jane felt his hand gently stroke her hair. It was a remarkably tender gesture, and she found herself wanting to sit up and comfort him. She wanted to hug him and tell him that, whatever it was, everything was going to be fine. He was one of the greatest Spectres to ever live; he always managed to do the right thing. But while she was trying to decide whether she should pretend to wake up or reveal she’d been awake the whole time, Saren spoke again. 

“I’ll find a way,” he said suddenly. The fear was gone from his voice, and it was replaced with his typical steely resolution. She felt him pull up the blankets so that she was covered up to her shoulders. “Nothing is going to take you away from me.” 

With that, she heard him turn and leave. The doors shut behind him, and Jane was left in the darkness with nothing but silence and confusion.


	17. Breaking Point

Jane tugged at her graduation robes nervously, glancing around the curtain. The other students stood neatly in a line, waiting for their names to be called. It was a bit funny seeing all these species – asari, turians, salarians, humans, even elcor and hanar – wearing, in some form or fashion, traditional asari garb. Lenai Academy had been founded not long after the asari had first discovered the Citadel. It was traditional that everyone, regardless of species, dressed in formal asari robes. 

As she looked down the line, Zasin waved at her from his place. He looked more than a little hilarious. In place of his typical dark green shawl, he wore lavender robes over his suit and two sashes, one yellow and one teal, braided around his waist. Though she had no room to laugh. Jane was more or less wearing the same thing, though she hadn’t been able to get out of wearing an asari headdress. The intricate strings of beads shifted and jingled against each other whenever she moved her head. 

“Don’t trip,” Zasin said as loudly as he dared. She stuck her tongue out at him, causing him to chuckle. One of their professors hushed them. 

Out in front of the curtain, the Dean was still giving her speech. When she finished, they’d begin calling students’ names. They would get their diplomas – on actual printed paper, no less – and take their seats. The asari councilor would give a speech and complete the ceremony, and then they could all go celebrate. Jane and Zasin had planned a joint graduation party, and it was all they’d talked of for the past month. 

There was some applause as the Dean ended her speech, and moments later they began to call names. As Jane neared the curtain, she suddenly felt her stomach constrict. In mere moments, she would become the first human student to ever graduate from Lenai Academy. What if she tripped walking to get her diploma? Spirits, she’d never recover from that. 

“Jane Arterius, high honors.”

Jane took a deep breath and walked out on to the stage. She was briefly blinded by the lights of the auditorium. Her eyes began to focus, and she walked down the line of professors towards the Dean. She handed her her diploma and shook her hand. 

“Congratulations, Jane,” she said quietly. She smiled. “You’re the first human to graduate from Lenai Academy.” 

For a moment her chest swelled with pride. She turned to look at out at the audience, scanning for familiar faces. She spotted Lutadaia, Tulea, Vellia, and Netan clumped together in the second row, grinning and waving at her. A little to the left of them she spotted Gran and, surprisingly, Nihlus. Between them was a painfully empty seat. Jane tried not to let her smile falter and walked to her chair as the next name was called. She barely heard when Zasin’s name was called, and she couldn’t manage to focus on the Councilor’s speech. All she could think of was the empty seat and the hollow feeling in her chest.

“Congratulations, class of 2172,” the Councilor said, beaming proudly at them.

Everyone around Jane jumped from their seats and began cheering. Friends hugged each other and high-fived. She rose slowly from her chair as Zasin rushed over and hugged her. 

“We did it,” he said. He was practically bouncing. “We did it- the first human and the first quarian graduates.”

It was an accomplishment. Their names would go down in Academy history. She should be happy. But Jane could hardly muster a smile. Zasin paused and tilted his head at her. “What’s the matter?”

“Saren didn’t show,” Jane said. She felt her throat constrict as she spoke, and tears blurred her vision. No. No, she would not cry. Not in front of everyone. She bolted from the auditorium and ran to the bathroom. Once the door was shut behind her, she sobbed and ripped off the headdress. Jane tossed it into the sink. Damn him. Spirits damn him. One of the most important days of her fucking life, and Saren couldn’t be bothered to turn up? 

The door opened. “Jane?”

“Go away,” she said, and even to her it sounded pathetic. 

“Jane,” Gran sighed. She walked over and set a hand on her cheek. “Look at me, child. What’s wrong?”

Jane looked at her great-grandmother through tear-filled eyes. It had been a couple of years since she’d seen Gran in person; she was even frailer looking than before. Her markings had all but disappeared against her cracked and worn plates. “Saren didn’t come.”

“I’m sure he had a good reason for missing the ceremony,” Gran said, wiping at her tears. “I know he hated to miss it.” 

“I don’t think he did,” Jane grumbled. 

“Saren loves you. More than life itself,” Gran said. Her tone was firm, but her expression was gentle. “I know it’s hard, sometimes. But everything he does, he does for a reason. Never forget that.” 

Jane thought back to that strange night, months ago, when Saren had come into her room while she was sleeping. She’d never mentioned it to him. Part of her was scared to. Jane didn’t really care to know who or what could shake up Saren so badly. He did love her. She knew that. He was just awful at showing it. 

“Now,” Gran said. She pulled the headdress out of the sink and began fixing it back on Jane’s head. “Let’s go celebrate. Alright? With any luck, Saren will make it to the party tonight.”

“Alright,” Jane said. She wiped at her eyes again. She shouldn’t be crying- she should be used to this. Saren had missed birthdays, holidays…it wasn’t a surprise that he’d missed her graduation. 

But it hurt, all the same. 

*

The celebration took place at Jane’s apartment. Gran had ordered cake and food galore (dextro and levo) for the party. Gifts were set out on the table for both her and Zasin, and Nihlus had hung a ‘Congratulations’ banner up over the doorway. Zasin’s mother and grandmother had taken it upon themselves to bring alcohol. One of them gifted Jane with a fine bottle of levo wine, and she could have sworn she saw her wink at her underneath her helmet. 

“How’s it taste?” Nihlus asked, sitting down beside Jane. She was sitting on the couch, swirling the wine in her glass. 

“It’s good, I guess,” she said. “I’m not really used to it; Saren doesn’t normally let me drink.”

“Well, take it easy and you should be fine,” Nihlus said. He smirked and clinked his glass against hers. “Congrats.”

“Thank you,” she said. She smiled and sipped at the wine. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

Nihlus shrugged. “I wanted to surprise you. And I wasn’t certain I’d be able to make it.” He let out a low, self-satisfied purr. “But I made it work.” 

She smiled a bit. Even if Saren couldn’t be bothered to show up, she was happy that Nihlus had come, at least. And it was good to see her friends again; Lutadaia, Vellia, and Tulea had all saved up their leave to come see her and Zasin graduate. Netan had come all the way from Sur’Kesh. Screw Saren; she had everyone she needed right here. 

“So,” Nihlus said. “What comes next?”

Jane felt her stomach drop. She took a long sip of her wine. Over the past few months, she’d gone back to the Alliance office three times. Each time she went back with more questions, and each time she’d left feeling a bit more certain that she wanted to join up. But she’d yet to discuss it with Saren- or tell anyone what she planned on doing, for that matter. Her hesitation was obvious to Nihlus. His mandibles flared slightly, and he looked at her curiously.

“I don’t know,” she said finally. 

Before Nihlus could question her further, Gran walked over to announce it was time to open graduation gifts. Jane and Zasin received similar gifts; they both received picture frames, pre-loaded with pictures of them and their friends. Both of them received credit chits loaded with money. Zasin’s mother also gifted him with a huge volume of scripts and plays from several different cultures. As Zasin gushed over the present, Nihlus handed Jane one last gift.

“Figured it was about time you had one of your own,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow, then carefully pulled off the wrapping paper. Underneath it was a sleek black box with a familiar golf insignia on the top. Jane lifted the lid, and found herself staring at a brand new pistol. 

“You did not,” Jane said in disbelief. She picked it up and looked it over. She knew the manufacturer, and the model. This was the Scorpion, one of the best pistols on the market. 

“I did.” Nihlus seemed pleased with himself. “Here’s hoping it serves you well.” He gave her a meaningful look. “Whatever you do.”

*

Gran and her friends left the Citadel a couple of days after the ceremony, but Nihlus remained. He and Jane passed the days at the usual spot, continuing their old game of counting cars.

“Red,” Jane said, pointing at a luxury skycar as it zoomed past.

“Blue,” Nihlus countered, nodding as one soared above their ledge. “So. You never did say what you were planning on doing now that you’ve graduated.” At her silence, he continued. “Saren told me he’d managed to get you into a program that would evaluate you for Spectre candidacy. It’s normally just for young turians, but…” 

Jane frowned. “He mentioned that.” 

Nihlus looked at her. “You want to do something else.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I’ve been thinking about joining the Alliance.” 

Nihlus stared at her in open surprise. “Really?” 

“I’ve been talking to recruiters for months,” she said. It felt strange, saying it aloud. For some time it had been her little secret. Part of her felt as though it were something shameful that she needed to hide. Saren would certainly be furious if he found out, at least. “I have to wait till I’m eighteen to sign off, though.”

“That’s not that far off, is it?” Nihlus asked. “Only a week and a half to go.”

Jane nodded. It still seemed so surreal. Time was passing so quickly; it seemed like only yesterday she was heading off to her first day of classes at the Academy. Now she was its first human graduate, and her future stretched out before her like a yawning chasm. What it held was a mystery, and that terrified her. But at the same time, it was strangely exciting. She had the entire galaxy at her fingertips. Whatever she did was up to her.

She paused. “Would you be mad it me if I joined the Alliance?”

“Of course not,” Nihlus said. “You’re my friend. I want you to do what you feel is right. If you think joining the Alliance is best for you, do it.” He paused. “Saren is not going to like it, however. At best he’ll be furious.”

“I know,” she said. 

“How are you going to tell him?” Nihlus asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. Perhaps if he stayed away till her eighteenth birthday, she could just sign without telling him. But that would just make it worse. “I guess I’ll figure it out.”

“You usually do,” Nihlus said. He smiled a bit. “Just promise me you’ll stay in touch.”

There was suddenly a tension between them, something strange and unfamiliar. But it wasn’t an altogether unpleasant feeling. Jane felt compelled to do or say something. What, she didn’t know. So instead she just nodded and looked back out over the Presidium. 

“Red one,” she said.

*

As Jane’s birthday drew closer, she felt more and more anxious. She was firm in her decision – she was going to enlist in the Alliance Navy no matter what – but the fear of telling Saren was steadily mounting. Each morning when she awoke she’d check Saren’s room to see if he had come home. And each time she found it to be empty. It was both a relief and a torment. Jane had avoided the dreaded conversation for another day. But, at the same time, she knew it had to happen eventually. 

He finally returned on the eve of her eighteenth birthday.

She awoke in the morning and found him at the table, reading over something on a datapad. Her chest immediately tightened. A million emotions ran through her at once; happiness, fear, anger. He did not look up as she walked past him and into the kitchen to fix her breakfast. Jane silently waited for him to say something. She wanted him to apologize for missing her graduation, to give her some sort of justification. But none came. As his silence grew longer, Jane’s anger mounted. Finally, after pouring herself a glass of juice, she slammed the container on to the counter loud enough to make him look up.

“You could at least explain yourself,” she said.

Saren frowned. “Explain myself?”

“Why did you miss my graduation?’ Jane demanded.

“I was busy,” Saren said gruffly, looking back down at the datapad. “I’m sure your great-grandmother got a vid of the entire thing. I will see it later.”

“That’s not the point!” Jane said. She knew it was hopeless. Saren cared little for sentimentalities or milestones. But still, she pressed on. “It was one of the biggest days of my life. What is so important that you had to miss that?”

“The fate of the galaxy, Jane!” Saren snarled at her with such a ferocity it frightened her. “That is what is so important. Forgive me if one ceremony seems like a frivolity in the face of that.” He got to his feet. “I don’t want to hear anymore about this, understand?”

She bit her lip. Perhaps it would be wise to not anger him further. After all, she was preparing to start an explosive fight about an entirely different subject. “Fine. Let’s talk about something else. My future-”

“You’re to leave in a week,” Saren said, not looking at her. “I’ve enrolled you in a program that will evaluate you for Spectre candidacy. It will last a year. At the end of it, the top recruits will be reviewed by the Council. I expect you to be the best.” His steely blue eyes met hers, and she felt a cold chill run down her spine. “Do not let these past ten years go to waste, Jane.”

“I’m not,” she assured him. She straightened her back. Now or never. “But I’m not going to be evaluated for Spectre candidacy.”

“Yes, you are,” Saren said dismissively. 

“No,” Jane said more firmly. “I’m not. I’ve decided what I want to do. I want to join the Alliance Navy.”

Saren froze. When he spoke, he did so slowly. Calmly. But she knew that thin veneer masked a cold fury. “What did you say?”

Jane stood fast. “I’m joining the Alliance Navy.”

“I forbid it,” Saren snarled.

“I won’t need your permission,” she said. “I turn eighteen tomorrow. But you probably forgot that, didn’t you? You always do.”

“What is this?” Saren demanded. He began to walk towards her. “Are you trying to spite me? Rebel? I’m sorry that birthdays and graduations fall by the wayside- but in my line of work, I have to consider the bigger picture, Jane. And you have to consider where you fit into that. I have groomed you for this your entire life. Now you want to throw it all away? To join the upstarts that murdered my brother?”

Jane narrowed her eyes. “The Alliance didn’t murder Desolas. _You_ did. You left him behind. You’re a killer. A cold-blooded killer. I’ve known it for years.”

“And you’re any different?” Saren advanced closer, looking down at her coldly. “You abandoned your brother. Your parents. You killed those batarians.”

“I was a child!” Jane snapped defensively.

“And that makes it better?” Saren growled. “You like to pretend you stand on some sort of moral high ground, Jane, but I took you in for one reason: I knew you could be just like me.”

“I don’t _WANT_ to be like you!” Jane yelled. “I never wanted to be a killer, or a Spectre. You know what I wanted? A father! But you couldn’t even get that right, could you?! No matter what I say or do, it’s never enough for you. I’m not going to be like you, because I don’t want to. You’re cold, you’re bitter, and I don’t think you ever gave a shit about me!” 

“Everything I’ve ever done was to protect you!” Saren shouted back. “You have no idea what is coming, Jane; I’m trying to prepare you for it.”

“I’ll prepare on my own! I’m going to live my own life from now on, not the one you’ve laid out for me!” Jane said. “I’m joining the Alliance- and I don’t care what you have to say about it!”

Her words hung in the air for a moment. They stared at each other, both of them seething with rage. Jane could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Never before had she ever dreamed of saying these sorts of things to Saren. But once she’d started, they refused to stop coming. Every hurt, every painful thought came roaring back to the forefront of her mind. 

“Fine,” Saren said. He drew back, looking at her with icy cold contempt. “Join the Alliance. But know if you step out those doors, you will never be able to return.”

Fine by her.

Jane stormed to her room. She pulled a bag out of her closet and began throwing clothes and toiletries into it. She tossed in the pistol Nihlus gave her as an afterthought; perhaps the Alliance would let her keep it. When she’d filled her bag with all she could, she shouldered it stormed out towards the door. Saren watched her, saying nothing. Some part of her, a very small part, hoped that he’d try to stop her. To apologize. But when she went to the door, he had only one thing to say:

“You’re no daughter of mine.”

With that, Jane left and never looked back.

*

She slept on a bench that night and went to the recruiter’s office as soon as it opened. Nilson had the paperwork pulled up and ready for her. Jane barely read through it. It was a standard four-year service contract. She’d read it three times already over the course of the past several months. This one, however, was on actual paper. When she flipped to the last page, Nilson handed her a pen.

“It’s traditional to do these in actual paper and ink,” he said. “However we do obviously keep virtual copies.”

Jane hesitated and stared at the line where she was meant to put her name. It wasn’t too late. She could still back out, go apologize to Saren. But as she considered returning home with her tail tucked in between her legs, she heard his final words ringing in her ears:

_“You’re no daughter of mine.”_

She frowned and, with renewed conviction, signed her name: _Jane Shepard._

Nilson looked over the contract, ensuring she’d initialed and signed in all the right places. Then, nodding once, he stood and shook her hand. “Welcome to the Alliance Navy, Shepard. I’m sure you’ll do us proud.”


	18. Eleven Years Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while guys! Finals and the holidays kept me busy- and then my laptop broke. But I'm back and ready to start updating regularly! Hope you enjoy!

The Spectre arrived with little fanfare, much to the crew’s disappointment. 

Shepard, however, fully expected it. Spectres were elite agents. While that status certainly came with benefits, it also put a great deal of attention on them. Most preferred to travel with as discreetly as possible. In fact, when Spectre finally did come aboard, the crew didn’t even realize it. Only Anderson and Shepard went to greet them. They both stood at ease in front of the hatch, talking companionably as they waited.

“How are you liking the Normandy, Commander?” Anderson asked.

Shepard smiled a bit. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before, sir. Glad to be aboard.”

In truth, the ship was strange to her. It was an amalgamation of turian and human design. For someone intimately acquainted with both cultures and architectural styles, it was a bit disorienting. But, at the same time, she’d secretly hoped to be assigned to the vessel the moment she heard of its construction. It seemed- fitting, somehow. She and the Normandy were both the products of human and turian culture. In a way, the ship was the closest thing she had to a companion in that sense.

Silence fell again, and after a minute or two Shepard spoke. “We’re going to Eden Prime after this transfer, is that correct sir?”

“Yes,” Anderson said. “They say it’s a paradise.”

“Doubt we’ll get time for a vacation,” Shepard replied. With other commanders, she might be a bit more restrictive in what she said. But she and Anderson had a bit of a history between them; he had been the one who recommended her for the N7 program. 

Anderson let out a small chuckle. “We rarely do.”

_“Alert: boarding in progress. Doors will be opening in ten seconds.”_

Both of them fell silent. Shepard straightened her back, instinctively going into the posture Saren had drilled into her from the age of eight: head tall, shoulders back, back straight. 

The doors opened ten seconds later, and the Spectre stepped on to the ship.

They both saluted them automatically, and the Spectre – a turian – offered one in response. Anderson stepped forward and shook his hand. “Welcome aboard. I’m Captain David Anderson. This is my second-in-command, Commander Shepard. Shepard, this is-”

“Nihlus!” Shepard said at once, stepping forward to greet him. At first she’d been shocked. It had taken her a few moments to process that the turian standing in front of her was, in fact, one of her oldest friends. 

He hadn’t changed much in the years since they’d seen each other. There was a bit more wear and tear on his facial plates, but that was to be expected. His mandibles spread in a smile, and he offered his hand. For a moment she was confused – they were friends, they didn’t need to bother with formalities. But Shepard remembered her captain was still right there, so she settled for a friendly handshake and a big grin. 

“It’s been too long, Shepard,” Nihlus said. That was strange, too. Nihlus never called her Shepard. She’d always been Jane to him. 

“I take it you two know each other?” Anderson snapped them both back to reality, and it was only then Shepard realized they still hadn’t let go of each other’s hands. She took a step back, and was relieved to see Anderson looked amused rather than irritated.

“We’re old friends,” Nihlus explained. 

Anderson nodded, smiling just a bit. “I understand the Council has asked you to inspect the Normandy?”

“Yes,” Nihlus said. “They want to ensure their investment lives up to their standards.”

“I’ll give you the grand tour, then,” Anderson said. He looked to Shepard. “Head to the CIC and tell Joker to prepare for the jump; I want us at Eden Prime as soon as possible.” With that he began to walk down the hall.

Nihlus lingered for a moment. He looked to Shepard. “We’ll talk later.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Kryik,” Shepard replied.

With that, they parted ways. Nihlus followed after Anderson, and Shepard could hear him giving the run-down of the ships specs while Nihlus looked over things. She watched them go, then turned and walked to the CIC with an unusual spring in her step.

*

“Thrusters, check. Navigation, check. Internal emissions sink engaged. Drift…just under 1500K,” Joker said, his eyes scanning the multitude of screens displayed in front of him. Shepard never understood how he – or any pilot, for that matter – ever understood any of it. 

“1500 is good,” Nihlus remarked, walking past her up the bridge. He cast a glance at the monitors, as though he wanted to check for himself, then gave a small approving nod. “Your captain will be pleased.” He turned and cast Shepard a look- then with that, he was gone again.

“...I hate that guy,” Joker grumbled.

Shepard looked over, surprised and more than a little offended. But before she could say anything, Kaidan spoke up first.

“Nihlus gave you a compliment…so you hate him?” Kaidan asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“You remember to zip up your jumpsuit on the way out of the bathroom? _That’s_ good. I just jumped us halfway across the galaxy and hit a target the size of a pinhead. So that’s incredible!” Joker replied. “Besides, Spectres are trouble. I don’t like having him on board. Call me paranoid.”

Shepard did her best to smother her irritation. But, once again, Kaidan almost seemed to speak for her.

“You’re paranoid. The Council helped fund this project. They have a right to send someone to keep an eye on their investment,” he said.

“Yeah, that is the ‘official’ story. But only an idiot believes the official story.” Joker said.

Shepard bit her lower lip and sighed, suppressing her anger. Just as Nihlus tended to be, well, restrained with people, Joker tended to be outspoken and occasionally eccentric. It was just his way. “You always expect the worst, Joker. Spectres aren’t always the heralds of death and destruction.”

“Yeah, sometimes they’re babysitters,” Joker said.

The remark earned a roll of the eyes from Shepard. But before she could retaliate, Captain Anderson’s voice came through the comm system.

“Joker! Status report,” he said.

“Just cleared the mass relay, Captain. Stealth systems engaged. Everything looks solid,” Joker replied. 

“Good. Find a comm buoy and link us into the network. I want mission reports relayed back to Alliance brass before we reach Eden Prime,” Captain Anderson said.

“Aye aye, Captain. Better brace yourself, sir. I think Nihlus is headed your way,” Joker warned.

“Joker,” Shepard hissed.

“He’s already here, lieutenant,” Anderson said, his voice obviously exasperated. “Tell Commander Shepard to meet me in the comm room for a debriefing.” With that, he ended the communications.

Joker glanced over at Shepard. “You get that Commander?”

She nodded, and turned to go. As she walked down the bridge, she found herself admitting that Joker was probably at least partially right. This most likely wasn’t a simple shakedown run. The idea of testing the stealth systems capabilities was all good and well- but the Alliance, the Hierarchy, and the Council all knew exactly what this ship was capable of. If they wanted to run more tests, they’d do it with a skeleton crew rather than keeping the ship fully staffed. Something else was going on. 

Shepard made her way to the comm room. Nihlus was already there, but Anderson was nowhere to be seen. In truth, Shepard was a bit relieved for that. She and Nihlus still hadn’t gotten to talk privately yet.

“So since when do you call me Shepard?” she asked, smirking as she walked down the ramp towards him.

Nihlus turned to face her, his mandibles flaring slightly in amusement. “I didn’t want to disrespect you in front of your commanding officer. Was that an error on my part?”

“Just giving you shit, Kryik,” she said, playfully punching his shoulder. “How’ve you been? It’s been…spirits, six years since we’ve gotten to see each other?”

“Seven, I believe,” Nihlus said. “I’ve been well. I see you have been too.” He looked her over for a moment. “The Alliance has been good for you. Hard to believe you’re the same scrawny little twig I met all those years ago.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow. “Scrawny? You want to talk about scrawny, chicken legs?”

“You never did explain to me what that meant,” Nihlus said. He shook his head, chuckling slightly under his breath. “It’s good to see you again, Jane. Truly. I just wish we could meet under better circumstances.” His tone almost immediately grew somber. 

“This isn’t a shakedown run, is it?” Shepard asked.

“No, it isn’t,” Anderson said. He walked up behind her. “We’re making a covert pick-up on Eden Prime. Researchers there unearthed some sort of beacon during an excavation- it’s Prothean.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and Shepard let the weight of them sink in. The last time humanity had made a discovery like this, it had shot technology forward a couple of centuries. But this wouldn’t just effect humans. All Council races would reap the benefits from this discovery- whatever they may be.

“But that’s not all,” Anderson said. “Nihlus isn’t just here for the beacon- he’s here to evaluate you.”

Shepard shot a look at Nihlus, but his face remained impassive. He was bound and determined to remain professional in front of Anderson, it seemed. She looked back at her commander. “Evaluate me?”

“The Alliance has been pushing for a bigger role in interstellar policy for a while now. The Spectres represent the Citadel’s power and authority,” Anderson explained. “If they accept a human into their ranks, it’ll show how far the Alliance has come.”

For a moment, Shepard didn’t know how to respond. Part of her wants to laugh. That was all she had heard during the entirety of her childhood. She was going to be a Spectre. From the age of eight she was brought up to fight and shoot and be the perfect soldier. Saren had such high hopes for her; she’d dashed them when she went into the Alliance. Or, perhaps not. Shepard looked to Nihlus incredulously, feeling almost betrayed he hadn’t at least warned her. They still kept in contact via messages and occasional video chats. Why didn’t he tell her then?

“Isn’t that a conflict of interest?” Shepard asked, still looking at him. “You’re my best friend; do they really trust you to stay impartial?”

“I’m not going to recommend you for Spectre status due to our friendship, Shepard,” Nihlus replied. “If anything, I believe they expect me to judge you harsher for it. I’m not about to throw someone I care about into that minefield if I’m not completely certain they can handle it.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “Besides, the Council has had their eye on you ever since you single-handedly saved an entire colony. This has been a long time coming, Shepard.”

Better Elysium that drew their attention than Saren, at least. But deep down Shepard knew that must have also factored into the decision making. What was better than a Spectre raised by one of their best and most ruthless? She frowned to herself.

“I’ll need to see your skills for myself,” Nihlus continued. “If they’re up to the Council’s standards, this will be the first of several missions together.”

That in of itself was tempting. Despite time and distance, she and Nihlus were still best friends. Being able to see him on a fairly regularly basis would be amazing. But years of pushing and demanding had turned ‘Spectre’ into a dirty word. It meant being controlled, and manipulated, and – worst of all – letting Saren win.

If Anderson noticed her hesitation at this proposition, he didn’t let on. “You’ll be in charge of the ground team. Get the beacon and get it on to the ship ASAP. Nihlus will accompany you.” 

“…we’d better get going then,” Shepard said.

“Captain!” Joker’s voice suddenly came on through the comms. “We’ve got a problem- transmission from Eden Prime. You’d better see this, sir.”

“Patch it through,” Anderson said. 

All three of them turned towards the curved monitor at the front of the room. Moments later, a shaky video appeared on the screen. Alliance soldiers were firing at something. Something exploded in the background, and a female soldier ran at the camera. She forced the camera-wielder on to the ground, and the chaos continued. Gunfire, explosions, frantic camera movements. Shepard felt her chest tighten. It reminded her of Mindoir- a sleepy little colony turned into a war zone. 

“We are under attack!” cried an officer. “Taking heavy casualties- I repeat, heavy ca—ties. We can’t- argh! –eed evac! They came out of nowhere! Need—”

The officer speaking fell to the ground, dead, as a shot hit him in the back. For a moment the camera captured only the awestruck faces of the other soldiers, and an astonishingly loud metallic humming. Then it turned, and Shepard saw a ship so large she could scarcely believe her own eyes. Huge and sleek and black, designed like nothing she had ever seen before. It had an almost diamond-shaped hull and legs like a monstrous spider’s. There was the sound of a gun firing and then-

Nothing.

“Spirits,” she murmured.

“Everything cuts out after that. No comm traffic at all- it’s just dead,” Joker said. 

“Status report,” Anderson demanded.

“We’re seventeen minutes out, no other Alliance ships in the area.”

There was a pause, and both Shepard and Nihlus looked to the Captain for his orders. He considered for a moment, then spoke again. “Take us in Joker, fast and quiet. This mission just got a lot more complicated.” He looked to Nihlus and Shepard. “You two had best prepare yourselves. Grab your gear and meet up in the cargo hold.”

With that he walked out, leaving the two of them alone in the comm room.

“Complicated is a bit of an understatement I think,” Shepard said. 

“Tends to happen with these sorts of missions,” Nihlus said.

She gave him a look. “Ever seen a ship like that on your missions?”

“No,” he admitted. He glanced back at the now-blank screen, concern evident in his eyes. “I don’t know what we’ll be facing down there. But we’ll need to be careful, Jane.” Nihlus looked back towards her. “I’d hoped after this mission we could both take a bit of leave…and just…catch up.”

Something passed between them again, something Jane hadn’t felt since the day she told him she was joining the Alliance. Only now she was old enough to know what exactly it was. She took a step towards him and grabbed one of his hands. “Catch up or…catch up?”

“Why not both?” Nihlus asked, a touch of amusement in his voice. 

She felt her cheeks grow hot, but she grinned. “Why, Kryik, are you-”

“ETA is fifteen minutes commander,” Joker interrupted. “Better get a move on.”

Shepard let out a sigh. This wasn’t the time or the place. People were dying on Eden Prime, and there was a mission to be done. She and Nihlus could figure out the intricacies of their relationship after it was all over. She took a step back, casting him a small smile. “Meet you in the cargo hold?”

“It’s a date,” Nihlus said, giving her a wry smile.

“Hell of a first date,” Shepard replied. And with that, she went to retrieve her gear.


	19. At Any Cost

The cargo bay door began to open in preparation for the first drop. Shepard looked to Anderson, who could only just be heard over the roaring wind. 

“Remember, Shepard, get to the beacon!” Anderson said. “That’s the top priority.”

Shepard nodded and looked to Kaidan and Jenkins. “I’m taking point with Nihlus. We’ll give you status reports, and if you run into trouble, let us know. Otherwise we need to keep radio silence.” 

Kaidan and Jenkins both nodded their understanding, but Nihlus did not seem to be in complete agreement. 

“I move faster on my own,” he protested. “You should stay with your crew, Shepard.”

“How can you evaluate me if I’m a kilometer behind you?” Shepard demanded. 

Nihlus paused, then assented with a nod. “Fair enough. Just try to keep up.” 

“Good luck, Commander,” Anderson said. “And be careful.”

Shepard nodded. And after one last salute, she and Nihlus made the jump.

*

Eden Prime was beautiful. Green trees shaded their way, and a gentle breeze swept through the landscape. Exotic flowers bloomed on the edges of the paths, and rounded stones perched on hillsides looked like the perfect seating for an afternoon picnic. It would have idyllic if not for the smell of smoke and the burnt bodies they found curled up near a cluster of trailers. It was not the first time Shepard had seen death – she was still subjected to horrifyingly vivid nightmares of Mindoir from time to time – but there was something disturbing about seeing it in the midst of an otherwise peaceful paradise. 

“What happened here?” she asked, looking at Nihlus.

He was knelt down examining one of the bodies. “Not sure. This type of charring- it’s strange. It’s liked they’re cooked through.” He straightened up. “Let’s keep moving. We need to get to the dig site.”

They continued up the path, trudging uphill through the trees. Shepard kept her gun raised. She hated to say it, but in times like this, she was glad for Saren’s training. Even now she felt calm, but alert. Her senses seemed to be attuned to every sound and movement. 

Which was how she noticed the drones lurking in the branches.

“GET DOWN!” she shouted, rolling behind a tree. Nihlus rolled to the other side of the path. The drones unleashed a torrent of shots at the ground where she and Nihlus had been seconds before. Shepard focused her biotics and warped the area where the drones had clustered. It ripped three of the four to shreds, and Nihlus downed the last one with a single shot.

“Glad to see your reflexes have improved,” Nihlus said, stepping out from cover. He walked over to the remaining drone and inspected it briefly. He frowned. “I don’t recognize this make…I thought perhaps a private military group might be behind this, but…”

“What private military group can afford a ship that monstrous?” Shepard asked, walking over. The image of that ship was still fresh in her mind. Huge and black with spindling arms- it was unlike anything she’d ever seen before. It unnerved her. 

“Who could _build_ a ship that monstrous?” Nihlus said. He stood, looking more troubled than he had before. “Well, we won’t find answers by waiting around here. Let’s go, Jane.”

They walked in silence for a few more minutes, when suddenly Shepard’s comm crackled to life in her ear. She paused, waiting for the message.

“Commander, I…” Kaidan said. He sounded shaken. “Jenkins is dead, Commander.”

Shepard felt her heart drop. Jenkins was just a kid. This was his first assignment. “What happened?”

“Drones, ma’am. They ambushed us. Tore right through his shields,” Kaidan said. 

She let out a long sigh. It was always hard to lose a comrade. But she’d been through this before, and she’d go through it again. They had to hold it together. “Leave him for now, Kaidan. When the mission is over we’ll come back for him and give him a proper burial. But right now I need you to stay focused, alright? Just keep moving.”

“Yes ma’am,” Kaidan said. And with that, they went back on silence.

Nihlus didn’t say a word. He simply gave her a questioning look. When she shook her head, indicating she didn’t want to talk about it, he turned and continued on. Shepard followed behind him now, a cold dread slowly spreading through her. A simple pickup had turned into a bloodbath, and now one of her crew was dead. And instinct told her it was about to get a lot worse. 

As they came up over the hill, Shepard saw she was right. 

The first thing she noticed were the spikes. They were sleek and metallic, and stood about twenty feet in the air. Splayed near the tops were human bodies. At the foot of the spikes stood two mechs. No, not mechs.

“Geth,” Nihlus hissed. 

They fired the first shot. Nihlus hit one in the torso, while Shepard hit the other in the leg. Their shields repelled the attacks, but they now had their attention. They fired back in retaliation, and both she and her companion dove behind an alcove of rocks for cover. 

Between the two of them, they disposed of the geth rather quickly. But as Shepard stood up to continue on, she noticed the spikes had begun to lower. And, once again, she felt that overwhelming sense of dread. Dread turned to horror as the human bodies stood up and turned towards them. They only vaguely resembled humans at that point. Their eyes glowed blue, and tubes were coming out of their cheeks and mouths. They snaked down their necks and disappeared underneath their paper-thin skin. All of their ribs were visible, but were now strangely mechanical. 

And then they ran at them. 

Shepard felt a flash of panic. These things were going to bull rush them. All she could think to do was repel them with her biotics. They flew back and hit the ground like ragdolls- and proceeded to get right back up.

She felt like she was in one of her nightmares. For a moment these husks weren’t poor humans that the geth had killed and somehow mechanized. They were the gaunt, blood-stained figures of her family and the batarians she had killed. As a little girl, the prospect would have been enough to send her running.

But she was a soldier now. And soldiers stood their ground.

Shepard fired, and kept firing. She could feel her gun growing hot through her armor, and she knew she was dangerously close to overheating it. But Shepard had to get these things down. One of them fell, then another, and another- at that point she was aware that Nihlus was firing as well. Only one of them made it close. It ran at Shepard, arms outstretched, and she met it head-on and buried her omni-blade in its torso. The thing let out a strangled gasp that sounded half human and half something else, then fell to the ground.

“…what the _fuck_?” Shepard demanded. Her heart was pounding. “What are these things? How did the geth do this? Why are the geth even here?”

“I have no idea,” Nihlus said. He did not kneel to inspect the strange husks. In fact, he didn’t seem to even want to touch them. Shepard could hardly blame him. “We need to get to the dig site. Now.”

Kaidan’s voice suddenly materialized in her ear once again. “Commander, status report?”

“There’s geth here,” Shepard said. “Watch your back, Alenko. They’re turning their victims into these…things-”

“Trust me, we know,” Kaidan said.

“We?” Shepard repeated with a frown. 

“I picked up a hitchhiker, Commander. Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams. She was stationed here on Eden Prime- says the geth took out the rest of her squad,” Kaidan explained. 

So someone was alive, at least. Good. Perhaps when they got back to the Normandy this Lieutenant Williams could shed some light on what happened. For the time being, however, they needed to focus on the beacon. “Rendezvous at the dig site. Don’t let the geth catch you off-guard.”

“Roger that. Be careful, Commander,” Kaidan said.

They resumed radio silence, and Shepard let out a sigh. “I don’t think this could get any worse.”

“Never say never, Jane,” Nihlus said. “The spirits will set out to prove you wrong every time.”

*

It got worse. 

The beacon was gone.

She and Nihlus stood there and just stared at the place where the beacon should have been. They’d cleared the geth out of the area and the nearby trailers that were serving as labs and resting areas for the researchers. 

“See?” Nihlus said after a moment. He gestured to the empty dig site. “You jinxed it.”

“Oh shut up,” she snapped. She thought for a moment, then radioed Kaidan. “Alenko, you said Williams was stationed here? Does she know if the beacon was moved?”

Kaidan relayed the question to Williams, and after a pause, answered. “She says it was moved to the docks this morning; the researchers were told to prepare it for transport to the Citadel.” 

“Then meet us there,” Shepard said. She switched off the comm again and relayed the information to Nihlus. Together they headed towards the docks, moving as quietly as possible. As they entered the port they spotted a figure ahead. She shot Nihlus a look, and on his signal they moved forward, guns drawn.

But as they crept closer, they realized it wasn’t a geth they had seen.

“Saren?” Nihlus said, lowering his weapon.

Saren turned to face them, and Shepard stared at him in open shock. It would have been surprising enough to see him on Eden Prime of all places. But it was his appearance that made her eyes go wide. He’d been heavily altered by cybernetics. His blues eyes had an unnatural glow to them, and he was covered in wiring and tubing and metal plating. What happened to him? A horrible accident? She felt a momentary pang of guilt imagining Saren alone in a hospital with no one to care for him- but how was she to know? He hadn’t spoken to her in eleven years.

“Nihlus,” Saren said. His eyes went to her. “And Jane. How…unsurprising.”

“What are you doing here?” Shepard demanded. She looked at Nihlus accusingly, but he seemed just as confused as her. 

“The Council thought Nihlus could use some help with this one,” Saren explained. He walked past them slowly. His tone was…off. Everything about him was off. Something was going on here. “And I wanted to see the candidate he had nominated for Spectre status- I should have known it was you, Jane. Glad to see my training paid off. You’re welcome.”

Shepard couldn’t bring herself to say anything. For eleven years, she’d thought of all the things she would like to say to Saren. She’d thought of curses and apologies, and a million other things. But now none of them came to mind. Instead, she simply looked away and began scanning the perimeter. The last thing they needed was for the geth to ambush them. And now that she knew Saren was here, she wanted to show him that she could handle this. Even as a goddamn Commander she was trying to prove herself to him.

Nihlus frowned, looking ahead. “We weren’t expecting to find the geth here. The situation is bad.”

“Don’t worry,” Saren said. “I have this under control.”

The phrase triggered alarms. Suddenly she was a little girl again, cowering against the wall, blood pooling on the carpet and a Cerberus agent being held up by his throat, just moments before his neck would be snapped-

Saren raised a gun, and Shepard yelled, “NO!”

Nihlus turned too late. The shot rang out, and he hit the ground in a spray of blue blood. Shepard ran over to him, her heart pounding in her ears, and knelt beside him. He was gasping like a dying animal, blue blood pouring out of his mouth and down his neck. 

“…what have you done?” Shepard whispered. Her mind simply couldn’t process it. Why would Saren shoot Nihlus, his own apprentice? What was happening? Why was he really here? His shadow fell over her, and she stared up into the unnaturally glowing eyes. And for a moment she was struck with the ludicrous idea that maybe this wasn’t Saren. Maybe this was a- a geth imitation, or a clone, or something. This couldn’t be Saren. Saren wouldn’t do this. “Why?”

“Victory at any cost, Jane,” Saren said. He raised his gun, and for a moment she was sure he was going to shoot her, too. But instead he slammed the butt of his pistol into the side of her head. 

Shepard collapsed into the pool of blood forming around Nihlus. She was aware of wetness against her cheek and Saren’s faraway voice, and then, nothing.


	20. The Warning

She was having the nightmare again.

It was all like it had been when she was a child- the field, the farmhouse, the bloodied wraiths of her past relentlessly pursuing her. But the dream was different now. The voice calling her name – which always inevitably led her to the farmhouse – was now coming from all around her. It was Saren’s voice, screaming for her, and she couldn’t tell if he was angry or in agony. The sound was ear-splitting. She tried to run, but her path was blocked- first by a batarian, or her brother, or a bloodied Nihlus. Then a deafening roar drowned out everything, and she looked up, and it was that _ship_ , huge and monstrous, blotting out the sun itself-

“COMMANDER!”

She awoke suddenly, chest heaving. The entire left side of her face was damp. When she wiped it away, her hand came away covered with blue blood. Nihlus was still lying beside her, strained rattles still being emitted from his throat.

_He’s still alive_ , she thought. _Thank the spirits he’s still alive._

“Commander, what happened?!” Kaidan is kneeling in front of her, concern evident on his face. A couple feet away a woman – who Shepard could only presume is Gunnery Chief Williams – was radioing for an evac. 

For a moment Shepard didn’t know what to say. It didn’t seem real. She stared at Nihlus, at the blood on her armored hand, at her pistol on the ground. How could Saren be there? Why would he shoot Nihlus, or attack her? But inevitably her training kicked in. Mission first, questions later. Shepard got to her feet.

“I’ll explain on the way to the beacon. We need to go. Williams- stay with Nihlus till he’s evacuated. Meet up with us if you can.” With that, Shepard was off. But she didn’t explain. She was filled with a singular desire to reach the beacon before Saren. She ripped through the geth in their path like they were nothing- she wouldn’t have even noticed the bombs if not for Kaidan pointing them out. She left disarming them up to him. She charged on, undeterred, clearing their path. 

But when they reached the beacon, Saren was nowhere to be found. 

“Damn it…” she growled, holstering her weapon. She’d been so certain he was after the beacon- why else would he be here? But what would Saren want with a Prothean beacon of all things? None of this made any sense-

“Commander?” Kaidan said. “Pardon the insubordination, but what exactly is going on?” 

She frowned and looked at the beacon. “Nihlus and I ran into a Spectre. Named Saren. He- he raised me.” 

“…your dad is on Eden Prime?” Kaidan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s not my- it’s not important. What’s important is he showed up, shot Nihlus, knocked me out- I thought he’d come for beacon, but-” Shepard started to let out a low growl, but stopped herself. That was a turian habit she’d picked up from her childhood. She curled her hands into fists and looked towards the beacon. There had to be something more to this thing. Slowly, she walked forward-

And then she was being pulled. 

Her boots scraped along the metal platform of the docks. She struggled and fought, but it was useless. Suddenly she was lurched into the air. Then came the vision.

_Smoke, hot and sulfuric, filling her lungs, choking her-_

_Screaming, shrieks of agony and fear, suffering and pain, the last sounds of a dying world-_

_A glowing red eye coming to life with a mechanical hum-_

“SHEPARD!”

Then, nothing.

*

She awoke in the Normandy’s medbay. Shepard heard the muffled voices of Dr. Chakwas and Captain Anderson talking not too far away. Her head was pounding. She rolled on to her side, and found that the room seemed to sway as she did. Shepard let out an involuntary groan. As the world righted itself, she saw she wasn’t alone in the medbay- Nihlus was there, too.

He was hooked up to almost every single monitor in the room, and a clear tube snaked its way down his throat. He was alive. Alive, and struggling, but alive. 

Shepard tried to get up, but the room tilted violently. Her knees buckled underneath her and she slid to the floor. The nearby conversation halted, and moments later she was being pulled to her feet by her captain and the ship’s doctor. 

“I’m good,” she protested quietly. She sat on the edge of her bed, blinking repeatedly in an attempt to dispel the swaying. “I’m good…”

“You have a concussion,” Chakwas said in a clipped tone.

“What happened?” Shepard ran a hand through her hair, and felt that the place where Saren had struck her was tender. Her fingers flinched away from it as she grimaced. 

“We were hoping you could explain,” Anderson replied. “Alenko and Williams told us what they could- but I want to hear it from you.”

She explained what had happened while Chakwas ran a number of scans with her omni-tool. She checked her vitals, and occasionally interrupted her story to ask a question about her current mental state. Shepard resisted the urge to shoo her off or ask about Nihlus’s condition; she doubted it would do her much good. Anderson listened to the story, saying nothing, and only nodded once or twice. When her tale was over, Chakwas moved to check on Nihlus. The captain was silent for a good minute more, a solemn expression on his face. 

“It’s safe to say this is a bad situation,” Anderson said at last. “If Saren has really gone rogue and recruited the geth, he could do untold amounts of damage.”

“What happened with the beacon?” Shepard asked.

Anderson’s frown deepened. “It was destroyed after it was used.”

Nihlus was critically injured, the colony was lost, and the beacon was destroyed. It was without a doubt the most disastrous mission she’d ever been apart of. Shepard rested her face in her hands and sighed. “None of this makes any sense. Why would Saren go rogue?”

“Saren’s always had a reputation for being ruthless and brutal,” Anderson said. “I met him several years ago, once.”

Shepard looked up, intrigued, but her captain didn’t elaborate any further than that. 

“The Council wants to meet with you in person to discuss the outcome of the mission,” Anderson told her. “Get some rest.” 

“Aye aye, sir,” she said. But she knew that rest would be the last thing on her mind. Her mind was whirling with questions, interspersed with the terrifying images from her vision. It felt like a desperate warning, but as to what, she couldn’t understand. And why would Saren be interested in it? What would cause such a change in him at that? Shepard looked to Nihlus. Saren was ruthless, and Saren was brutal, but he wasn’t evil. 

Was he?

*

There was some time still before Shepard’s appointed meeting with the Council. She accompanied Nihlus to the hospital, praying to the spirits that he would wake up. The doctors there couldn’t tell her much. She wasn’t immediate family, and thus it wasn’t legal for them to disclose details to her. But, they said, he was stable- for now. 

She waited in the hallway outside of his room, watching through the glass for signs of any change. Shepard didn’t have to wait long to receive company.

Nihlus’s mother, still in her work clothes from the embassy, was practically running down the hallway. Behind her was Nihlus’s stepmother, his human stepfather, his two sisters, and his half-brother. They rushed right past Shepard and began talking to the nearest nurse. She watched, heart wrenching, as a doctor joined them and explained the situation. Nihlus’s mother let out a despairing wail and turned to her husband for comfort. 

“Shhhh,” he said, stroking her crest, “he’s strong, Des, he’ll make it through this.”

Shepard remembered suddenly that Nihlus’s mother and Saren had been in boot camp together, years ago. They were friends. They’d been friends for decades now. Why would he betray her like this? 

A few minutes later, Nihlus’s mother and siblings went into his room. His stepfather and stepmother lingered outside. Shepard took the opportunity to walk over and offer her condolences- and also find out the particulars of Nihlus’s outlook.

Nihlus’s stepfather leaned against the wall and let out a sigh. They were an odd family, and had been for years. Nihlus’s mother and father split amicably when his sisters were mere infants. They both remarried- and his mother, shockingly, married a human. They’d set a galactic record as the first turian-human couple to do such a thing. Decades after the First Contact War, there still weren’t many pairings like them.

“Captain Heinrich?” Shepard said, approaching his stepfather. She’d met Nihlus’s family once or twice before; though she wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t remember her. At least not under these circumstances. “I’m-”

“Jane,” he replied. “I never forget a face. And please, call me Kerrigan. Neither of us are here on Alliance business.” 

“…how is he, Kerrigan?” Shepard asked, glancing towards his door.

“The outlook is not bright,” Kerrigan admitted. “The shot hit him right here.” He pointed at the juncture between his neck and skull. “Missed the spine, but there might be brain damage. Hemorrhaging is also a big concern right now.” He crossed his arms and let out a weary sigh. “God, I hope he makes it through this…”

“Me too…” Shepard said. She regretted not doing more to save him. Her warning had come two seconds too late.

“…I understand you might not be able to tell me this,” Kerrigan began. “But…what happened?”

For a moment she considered telling him it was classified. She wasn’t authorized to disclose information to anyone. But Nihlus’s family, at least, deserved to know. “…Saren shot him.”

Kerrigan gave her an incredulous look. “Saren? Saren Arterius?” 

“Yes,” she said.

He frowned. “On accident?”

“On purpose,” she said.

“I don’t believe that,” Kerrigan said firmly. “It doesn’t make any sense.” He looked towards his stepson’s room once more. “I…I tried to be a father to Nihlus, but it was difficult, after Noventus passed…he needed someone like him. I was Alliance navy, and I was human, there were things he just couldn’t come to me for. Saren was there for him when I couldn’t be. Why would he…”

“I don’t know,” Shepard said. “I wouldn’t have believed it either. If I hadn’t seen it.”

“Commander!” 

Shepard let out an inward sigh as Kaidan rushed up to her, flanked by Ashley. “It’s time, Commander.”

She cast a reluctant look at Nihlus’s door, but Kerrigan set a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I’ll let you know if his condition changes. Go on, Jane.” He paused. “And thank you.”

*

When they reached the Council room they were greeted at the stairs by two arguing turians. Shepard was about to shoulder past them when she caught snippets of their conversation.

“Saren’s hiding something! Give me more time- stall them, do something!” the younger turian said.

“I can’t stall the Council, Garrus,” the other replied. “Your investigation is over.” With that he left, giving Garrus no time to reply. Shepard saw the irritation plainly on the young officer’s face as his superior departed. Then, noticing he wasn’t alone, he turned to greet her and her companions.

“Commander Shepard?” he said. “Garrus Vakarian- I am- I was in charge of the C-Sec operation into Saren.” He practically spat the name, and his eyes flashed with anger. He’d really wanted to bring him down, it seems.

The name was familiar. Suddenly Shepard remembered the C-Sec officer who had come to her aid when Cerberus broke into their apartment- twice. He’d had a strong dislike of Saren, too, if she remembered correctly. “Son of Galverus Vakarian, I’m guessing?”

There was a slight shift in Garrus’s facial plates. Another human who wasn’t as familiar with turian facial expressions wouldn’t have picked up on it. But Shepard knew turian culture better than her own. That small shift had indicated several different underlying emotions: surprise, irritation, and reluctance. Garrus wasn’t on good terms with his father, it seemed. “Yes, that’s me. How do you know him?”

“I grew up on the Citadel,” Shepard replied. At this Kaidan and Ashley gave her surprised looks. She knew they’d been silently wondering at why she hadn’t been as dazzled by the Citadel as they were. For her, this was old familiar territory. Even the Council room wasn’t strange to her. She used to sit up on the upper decks while Saren met with them, playing games on her omni-tool or reading. It felt strange to be going into a hearing herself, however. “We ran into each other.”

“Unfortunately for you,” Garrus said. 

“I think the Council’s ready for us, Commander,” Kaidan prompted. She got the message; it was time to go.

“Good luck,” Garrus said. “You’re going to need it.”


	21. Initiation

For the first time in eleven years, Saren loomed over her.

His holographic image was projected into the meeting room, dwarfing everyone else. The Council stood on their platform, calm and collected despite Ambassador Udina being in the midst of berating them. 

“…we cannot let this stand!” he said. 

“There is no evidence to support Saren was involved with the attack on Eden Prime,” Councilor Tevos replied. 

Anderson stepped up beside Udina. “He shot a fellow Spectre and attacked the Commander.”

“Ah, Anderson,” Saren said. He crossed his arms. “You are typically involved when humanity makes false accusations against me.” His eyes turned towards Shepard. Suddenly she felt as though she were a little girl again, trying to justify why her grades were slipping or her performance in training had been lackluster. But Shepard refused to be intimidated by him. “But you, Jane. I expected better.”

“We have…reviewed the testimony provided by Commander Shepard,” Councilor Valern said. “We believe there is evidence enough to launch an investigation into her part in this mission.”

“ _I’m_ under investigation?!” Shepard demanded. “For what?”

“The attempted assassination of a Spectre,” Councilor Sparatus replied.

“Nihlus is my friend!” Shepard protested. “Why would I shoot him?!”

“Perhaps you wanted to prove to the Council you did not need assistance,” Saren suggested, “and turned on a friend in order to make yourself look better. But, when the mission was a complete failure, you needed a convenient excuse.”

Shepard stared at him in shock. It was so ludicrous, so improbable, she wondered how anyone could believe any of it. “And then I gave myself a concussion for added effect, right? What are you trying to do? Is this you getting back at me for joining the Alliance? Framing me for treason is low even for you, Saren.” 

His mandibles flared in anger. “Your poor life decisions aren’t up for debate in this hearing, Jane.”

“Obviously they are!” Shepard snapped back. 

“Enough!” Councilor Tevos curtailed the argument before it could advance further. She frowned at both of them. “This hearing was called to discuss the accusations against Saren. At present, this matter is simply Saren’s word against the Commander’s. An investigation into the incident on Eden Prime will be continued, but _neither_ the Commander or Saren have been implicated in any wrongdoing as of yet. This meeting is adjourned.”

Shepard tried to hide her growing fury as she Anderson, Udina, and her two comrades marched out of the meeting room. She managed to contain herself until they were out of earshot of anyone important. Then she let out a frustrated groan. “That son of a bitch-”

“Easy, Shepard,” Anderson said. He set a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not over yet.”

“This isn’t exactly an ideal situation, Anderson!” Udina snapped. “This will set humanity back another twenty years! You don’t honestly think they won’t skew they investigation in Saren’s favor?” 

“Then we find our own evidence,” Anderson said. “If we can find proof Saren was involved, the Council can’t ignore that.” 

Shepard frowned. Nihlus would be able to corroborate at least part of her story- he’d seen Saren on Eden Prime. That in itself would be fairly damning. But Nihlus was currently in Huerta, unconscious and unlikely to wake up any time soon. So all they were left with was her word and the inconclusive C-Sec report- 

“I’ve got our first lead,” she said suddenly. She looked to Kaidan and Ashley. “That turian we met when we came in- Garrus? He was in charge of the C-Sec investigation. He might have a clue we can follow.”

“Better than nothing,” Ashley said with a shrug. 

“The C-Sec investigation turned up nothing of import the first time,” Udina said dismissively. “What’s to say it will now?”

“Unless you have a better idea, Ambassador, it’s our only course of action,” she said. Shepard turned to Ashley and Kaidan. “I think we need to go pay Garrus Vakarian a visit.”

*

Several hours and three new teammates later, Shepard walked back into the embassy with Tali in tow. She felt exhausted in every sense of the word. But, spirits willing, their new quarian friend had the evidence they needed. The quarian seemed nervous as Shepard, Anderson, Udina, and the others looked towards her expectantly. She played the audio file, explaining how she extracted it from a geth memory core. Cold dread began to spread through Shepard's chest.

 _“Eden Prime was a major victory.”_ Saren’s voice was unmistakable. Despite everything – several firefights and a hostage situation – part of her was still hoping that it wouldn’t be true. She didn’t want to believe that Saren was capable of all that she’d seen. But there was no denying it now. _“The beacon has brought us one step closer to finding the Conduit.”_

“This proves Saren was involved in the attack,” Anderson said. He paused, thinking. “But what is the Conduit…? Some kind of weapon? Prothean tech, maybe.”

“That’s not all,” Tali interjected. “Saren wasn’t working alone.” She played the audio file again, this time letting it run to completion. Listening to Saren speak for a second time dug the knife in deeper. Every word he spoke damned him further, and a truth that Shepard didn’t want to acknowledge became all the more certain.

 _“…and one step closer to the return of the Reapers,”_ said a female voice.

The cold sensation in Shepard’s chest intensified. That voice was…strangely familiar. She furrowed her brow. “Play it again.”

Tali did so, but the answer didn’t come to Shepard right away. She’d heard that voice before, of that she was sure. But where? Shepard concentrated. The voice came with vague memories of crystal and soft silk dresses-

“Matriarch Benezia,” she whispered. The realization hit her like a punch to the stomach. She hadn’t seen the asari Matriarch since their training session years ago. But she remembered her well. Benezia had been beautiful, kind, and wise- all that Matriarchs were supposed to be. How was she involved in this? Why? The absurdity of the situation made Shepard want to laugh. It had to be some elaborate joke. This was out of character of Saren- and extremely so for the gentle Matriarch. What in the hell was happening?

All heads snapped towards her. Udina frowned. “You recognize the second voice?”

“Yes,” Shepard said, biting back a laugh. It wasn’t appropriate. Nothing about this situation was funny. But it was all so ridiculous, she was beginning to wonder if she was on the set of a Blasto movie. “That’s Matriarch Benezia- I met her, once, when I was a kid.”

“Matriarch?” Udina repeated. “You’re telling me that Saren has joined up with the geth and an asari Matriarch to destroy humanity?”

“I…I guess,” Shepard said. Her mind turned back to what Benezia had actually said. If the Conduit was some sort of Prothean weapon, what were the Reapers? “What was she talking about? About the Reapers?”

Tali spoke up again. “According to the memory core I salvaged the files from, the Reapers were a hyper-advanced machine race that existed 50,000 years ago. The Reapers hunted the Protheans to total extinction and then they vanished- at least, that’s what the geth believe. They’ve come to revere them as gods; the pinnacle of all synthetic life.”

“Sounds a little far-fetched,” Udina scoffed.

Suddenly, she remembered her nightmare. The screaming, the destruction, the mechanical deep mechanical roar. It all made sense. The beacon was a message. A warning. “My vision…I understand it now, I think.”

“Vision?” Udina repeated. He frowned. 

“After I activated the beacon on Eden Prime, I saw- something. I understand it now,” she said. “I saw the Reapers destroying the Protheans.”

“The geth believe Saren knows how to bring the Reapers back,” Tali interjected.

That answered one question, at least. But why would Saren want to bring them back? To unleash them on the galaxy? To harness their power? To what end was he doing this? Once again Shepard was struck with the wrong-ness of the whole situation. She knew Saren. And this wasn’t like him. 

“Visions, Reapers…the Council is just going to love this,” Udina sighed. 

“This could potentially effect the entire galaxy, sir; they need to know,” Shepard said.

“Regardless of what they think of the rest of this, the files prove Saren’s a traitor,” Anderson pointed out. 

A traitor. That’s not something Shepard ever thought she’d hear attached to Saren’s name. It made her angry. Instinctively, she opened her mouth to jump to his defense. Then she remembered all that he’d said in the court room – in front of the damn Council, no less – and closed it again. So together with Udina and Anderson, she went to go condemn the man who raised her. 

*

_“Eden Prime was a major victory. The beacon has brought us one step closer to finding the Conduit.” “And one step closer to the return of the Reapers.”_

There were audible gasps and a wave of murmuring from the upper decks of the court as the evidence was presented. 

“There’s your proof,” Udina said. 

The Council conferred briefly among themselves. Then Councilor Sparatus spoke. “The evidence is irrefutable. Saren will be stripped over his Spectre status and made to answer for his crimes.”

The rest of the hearing dissolved quickly from there. The Council refused to listen to their evidence regarding the Reapers. They were of the opinion that they were simply a myth Saren was using to bend the geth to his will, disguising his true purpose- but none of them had any idea what that may be. Or how to fight him without resorting to total war. 

“…there is another solution,” Councilor Tevos began.

“Absolutely not!” Councilor Sparatus growled. “It’s too soon! Humanity isn’t ready.”

“You get out of sending a fleet into the Attican Traverse,” Udina spoke up, “and we get our Spectre. Everyone is happy.”

Suddenly Shepard realized what was being discussed. She looked at Anderson in shock. After that disastrous mission, Spectre status was still on the table? The commander looked back to the Council, who were exchanging looks. Councilor Sparatus was obviously reluctant, but after a moment, he nodded his consent to Councilor Tevos.

“Commander Shepard, step forward,” Councilor Tevos said.

She did so, but not without a moment of hesitation. 

The upper decks were now alive with audible conversation. People clustered by the railings, standing on tip-toe to catch a glimpse at galactic history being made. A tight knot had begun to form in Shepard’s chest. She wasn’t sure if what she felt was pride, dread, or both. 

“It is the decision of the Council that you be granted all powers and privileges of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch,” Councilor Tevos said.

“Spectres are not trained,” Councilor Valern continued. “They are born. They’re individuals forged in service and the fire of battle. They are those whose actions elevate them above the rank and file.”

“Spectres are an ideal. A symbol. The embodiment of courage, determination, and self-reliance. They are the right hand of the Council, instruments of our will.”

“Spectres bear a great burden; they are protectors of galactic peace, both our first and last line of defense. The safety of the galaxy is theirs to uphold.”

“You are the first human Spectre,” Councilor Tevos concluded. “This is a great honor for you and your species; congratulations, Commander.”

How many times had she heard that speech from Saren himself? Likely those words had been said to him, and to Nihlus, when they were both initiated into the ranks. And now they had been said to her. The irony of the situation was not lost on her. All her childhood, Saren had done everything he could to ensure her future initiation into the Spectres. He’d finally gotten what he wanted.

And her first mission was to hunt him down.


	22. Three Leads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a Father's Day card to make up for a recent lack of updates.
> 
> https://67.media.tumblr.com/ee26103b552fdcf1ce4d13c1427adb46/tumblr_o918weFrde1r5sq16o1_1280.png

Shepard stood over the map with a data pad in her hand. The past twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind, and everything felt so surreal. Two days ago she was just Commander Shepard- now, she was a Spectre and the commanding officer of the most technologically advanced ship in the galaxy. Shepard looked at the data pad in her hand. Three planets, three leads. 

“Commander? A word?” 

She turned, and found Kaidan standing behind her. “Of course. What is it?”

Kaidan hesitated. “I just…forgive the insubordination, commander, but…are you ok?”

Shepard hadn’t even considered the question. It reminded her vaguely of when Benezia first asked her what she wanted; not only was it the first time anyone had ever asked her that, but she had been shocked to find she had no answer. By all accounts, she should be ok. She was the first human Spectre. Her name would forever be immortalized in history. Little kids were going to look up to her, people would make vids about her life long after she died. But…

But her best friend was still in the hospital, and her first assignment was to track down the man who raised her and bring him in. Dead or alive. 

“…that’s quite the pause, Commander,” Kaidan commented.

“I don’t know,” she admitted finally. Shepard set down the data pad with a sigh. “None of this makes sense to me. I don’t…” It occurred to her suddenly that, as commanding officer, it wasn’t right for her to unload this on one of her lieutenants. Not for the first time, she felt a pang of longing for Nihlus. No matter what, he had always been there to listen. “Never mind. I’ll be fine, Kaidan. I appreciate the concern.”

Kaidan looked as though he wanted to say something else. But he let it go, turned, and walked off.

Her omni-tool beeped. Shepard sighed and, reluctantly, checked the message that had just come in:

_He’s awake._

_\- Kerrigan_

*

Shepard sprinted into Huerta, blowing past all security and any doctors that tried to stop her. When she reached Nihlus’s room, it was full of his family. His mother sat beside him, stroking his crest and talking to him softly. Kerrigan stood in the doorway. He moved aside to let Shepard pass. 

“Jane,” Nihlus said. His mandibles spread in a smile as she walked in. “Thank the spirits you’re ok.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “That _I’m_ ok? Which of us is sitting in a hospital bed right now, Kryik?” 

“Let’s give the boy some room to breathe, Des,” Kerrigan said. “These two probably have a lot to talk about.” He herded Nihlus’s mother and the rest of his family out of the room. Once they were out, he shut the door behind them.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Shepard sat on the edge of his bed and squeezed his hand. Alive, awake, and speaking. That was more than she’d even begun to hope for. When she’d watched him go down, Shepard was certain her best friend in the entire world was about to die. Finally she said, “How do you feel?”

“Surprisingly well,” Nihlus replied. “I got lucky; had the clip been an inch to the left, it would have hit skin rather than plating.” He paused. “…Mother wouldn’t say what happened. It takes a great deal to get my mother to not talk about something. Did you know that?”

Shepard felt a knot form in her stomach. “What do you remember?”

“I remember everything- and then- Saren? He was there, wasn’t he?” Nihlus looked to her for affirmation. Her expression must have given away her feelings, and he frowned. “Please tell me Saren’s not hurt.” He paused. “Or worse.”

“Oh, Saren is fine,” Shepard replied with a dismissive hand wave. “Aside from being the most wanted criminal in the entire galaxy.”

So she explained. Nihlus listened, never interrupting. A million emotions were displayed by just a few subtle shifts in his facial plates: shock, disbelief, anger, betrayal, sadness, confusion. At the end of her story, neither of them said anything. Nihlus tucked his head down against his carapace, cringing slightly as he moved his neck. For a while he was lost in contemplation. Shepard didn’t blame him. It was a lot to take in; she still hadn’t processed everything herself. Finally he said, “I suppose congratulations are in order. You made history.”

“In the most ironic way possible,” Shepard replied. She sighed and ran her hand through her hair. “I don’t know what’s going on, Nihlus. I have to act gracious and proud for the Council and the cameras, but…this isn’t like Saren.” 

“It isn’t,” Nihlus agreed. “I wish I could come with you…I’d like to make sense of all of this myself.”

“I’ll keep you updated,” Shepard promised. 

“Where are you heading first?” Nihlus asked. “You must have some kind of lead.”

Shepard nodded. “I’m heading to Therum. Maybe Benezia’s daughter knows more about what’s going on. With any luck, it’ll be a simple recovery mission.”

Nihlus smiled. “Be careful; you’ll jinx yourself again.” 

*

Nihlus had been right. She had jinxed it.

But they had made it off of Therum safely, despite the Normandy’s brush with an exploding volcano. More importantly, they had Liara T’soni aboard. She sat across from Shepard and explained all she knew. Which, admittedly, wasn’t much. After the mission report was filed with the Council, Shepard headed down to the med bay to check on their newest addition to the crew.

Liara stood to greet her. “Commander. It just occurred to me that I didn’t properly thank you for saving me from the geth. Had you not arrived when you did…”

“It’s fine, Liara,” Shepard replied. “I’m just glad we made it in time.”

“I also wanted to assure you that I am not like my mother,” Liara said. “I know you took a risk allowing me to come aboard. Your crew does not trust me. But I promise, I will do my very best to help you bring in Saren.”

It occurred to her, then, that out of all the people on board, Liara actually might actually know how she felt. “…I met your mother once, actually.”

“That is not surprising. My mother had many friends across the entire galaxy,” Liara said. “She and Saren were fairly close. When he was just beginning his career as a Spectre, she took special interest in him and acted as a sort of mentor.” She paused, then looked back to Shepard. “Commander…if I may ask a personal question?”

“Go on,” Shepard said. 

“Saren adopted you, didn’t he?” Liara asked. 

Shepard let out a sigh. “He did. Until recently we hadn’t spoken for around eleven years.”

“You’ll forgive me if that seems like a very brief period of estrangement,” Liara said. “My people view time much differently than other races. But I understand. Benezia and I do not speak, either. I had no desire to carry on her legacy as a leader of our people. I’d rather make one of my own.”

“I know the feeling,” Shepard said. “Saren spent my entire childhood preparing me to become a Spectre.”

Liara couldn’t help but laugh a bit. “And now you are.”

“Just not the way he expected things to go, I guess,” Shepard said. 

“We’re two of a kind then, aren’t we?” Liara said. She smiled a bit grimly. “Two daughters of two traitors, attempting to bring them to justice.”

Shepard nodded slowly. It was still strange hearing Saren referred to as a traitor. It was the worst crime a turian could be accused of. High treason was the only crime within the Hierarchy that still carried an automatic death sentence upon conviction. Part of her still wanted to bristle to Saren’s defense. But it was true. Saren was a traitor. 

And she was determined to find out why.

*

A week and a half later, Shepard fell on to her bed with a relieved sigh. The mission of Feros had taken almost everything out of her, and helping Liara decode the Prothean cipher took what was left. The tired ache in her bones was like an old familiar friend. She remembered feeling this way after the Skyllian Blitz. The relief that came with a job well done was unlike any other. But the job wasn’t done. Not yet. They still had one last lead to follow. 

Her omni-tool began to ping, alerting her to an incoming video call. Shepard groaned, but answered it.

“You look awful,” Nihlus said.

“You really know how to charm a girl, huh Kryik? This is why Junara left you for that quarian,” Shepard joked. 

“Junara left me for a quarian because she was gay,” Nihlus replied flatly. “But really, Jane. You look ill. What happened on Feros?”

“A bunch of shit. The highlight was the giant sentient plant that could use mind control on people. Oh, and Saren pissed it off by making a deal with it and then attacking it. So guess who got to deal with _that_?” Shepard ran a hand through her hair. It seemed her entire life had become cleaning up Saren’s messes. Whatever damage he created, she had to run in and fix. “But the thing is dead, the colony is safe, and we got the cipher. Which, in the long-run, didn’t help us very much. But we got it.”

Nihlus listened and nodded along with her story. “Seems like you’ve had an interesting couple of days then.” 

Shepard sat up a bit. “And how are you?”

“Better,” he said. “Much better. I’m already up and about. I’m actually getting ready to be released.”

“Already?” Shepard raised an eyebrow.

He shrugged. “I’m remarkably strong-willed when I have a mind for it.” 

“There’s a big difference between strong-willed and stubborn,” Shepard said. 

“You would know,” Nihlus replied pointedly. “I don’t have time to lay around on sick leave. I have a new mission. The Council has asked me to aid you throughout the rest of your mission.” 

Shepard frowned. “They’re sending you back out into the field already? A few weeks ago you were on death’s door.” 

“And now I am not,” Nihlus replied. “The Council’s word is final in this matter, Shepard. This is, of course, still your mission. I will simply be advising you. Whether or not you choose to accept it is up to you entirely.”

She didn’t like it. But they were already headed to the Citadel anyways. They had to refuel on supplies before following up on their third and final lead. The spirits only knew what they would find when they got there. After the Thorian, Shepard was certain the galaxy was more than prepared to throw anything and everything at them. “Our ETA to the Citadel is about nine hours. We’ll pick you up when we get there.” 

“Perfect,” Nihlus said. “Where are we heading after?”

“Noveria,” Shepard said.


	23. A Bad Call

After restocking on supplies and fuel at the Citadel, they headed straight for Noveria. It was a seedy place where people could do business away from the prying eyes of Citadel officials. Saren often met contacts there. Once he had even brought her and introduced her to a few influential people. Even from a young age, Saren was arranging connections and networks for her. 

Nihlus entered her quarters unannounced, then quickly averted his eyes when he saw her donning her armor. She was already perfectly covered, but Nihlus was nothing if not a gentleman. “I didn’t think we would be getting there for a couple hours. Why are you gearing up?” 

“I wanted to get some training in,” Shepard said. She rolled her shoulders to test the range of motion, then tightened one of the straps. “I like to get warmed up before a mission.”

“Fair enough,” Nihlus said. He leaned against the wall. “I wanted to speak with you- I know this all must be…difficult for you.”

Shepard began fiddling with one of her plates, though it was already on perfectly tight. “I wasn’t the one who got shot.”

“I’d rather it be me than you,” Nihlus said. His hand went to the spot on his neck where the clip had entered. It still amazed her that he was already up and walking. Not too long ago she was certain her best friend in the entire galaxy was about to die. “We both know this isn’t like Saren. There’s something bigger going on here. I don’t know what, but…hopefully, we’ll get some answers.” The plates above his eyes drew together, almost as though he were furrowing his brow. “I feel like we’re looking into dark water, unable to see the true threat lying deep at the bottom.”

She couldn’t help but smirk. “Oddly poetic for you.”

“I can be cultured at times,” Nihlus replied. “But don’t you sense it? There’s something else happening- it’s in front of our faces, but we can’t see it.”

“I know what you mean,” Shepard replied. Ever since the encounter with the Thorian, she’d had similar thoughts. The idea of the Reapers was still swirling in the back of her mind. Why would Saren be so curious about them? Why would the geth think he could bring about their return? They destroyed the Protheans- for what reason would he call them back? “Knowing Saren, he probably thinks he’s doing this for the greater good. After he shot you, he told me…victory, at any cost.”

“He wouldn’t go this far for just anything,” Nihlus said. “Saren has always been…direct-”

“Ruthless.”

“-he’s always had unsavory methods of getting the things he needs to succeed,” Nihlus ceded. “But killing the apprentice he spent years training? Hurting his own daughter? That’s extreme, even for him. It just doesn’t make sense.” 

Shepard thought back to the look in Saren’s eyes just before he knocked her out. It sent a shudder down her spine, and she began to leave. “I’m going to go get warmed up.”

Nihlus set a hand on the crook of her arm, stopping her in the doorway. “Need a sparring partner?”

“Think you can keep up?” Shepard asked, raising an eyebrow.

“We’ll have to see, won’t we?” Nihlus replied, an amused smile spreading across his face.

An hour and a half later Shepard stood across from Nihlus, sweating and panting. They circled each other, each one looking for an opening. Nihlus feinted to the right, but Shepard saw through it and countered easily. She dove in to assault the weak points between his plating, but Nihlus skillfully avoided each hit. Shepard feinted left, then right. His feet followed just the path she expected, giving her the perfect opportunity to hook her leg through his spur. It threw him off balance and one good hit sent him sprawling to the floor.

Nihlus wasn’t done yet, however. As he went down he grabbed her forearm and dragged her down on top of him. They stayed that way. It was almost peaceful. For a moment the weight on Shepard’s shoulders fell away. It was just her and Nihlus laying on top of each other, panting on the cool floor. 

“I think we can safely call this one a draw,” Nihlus said finally. 

“You’re rusty,” Shepard replied. 

“I’ve been in the hospital,” Nihlus protested. There was another prolonged period of silence, during which Shepard realized neither of them had made a move to get up. Then, Nihlus spoke again. “I had a dream about you, you know.”

Shepard set her arms on top of his carapace. “In the hospital?”

“Yes,” he said. “You were in this field. I could just barely see you, off in the distance. I kept calling you. I was worried. You seemed scared. But every time I tried to get closer, you were farther away. I thought you were looking for me, too, but we just couldn’t reach each other.”

It sounded eerily similar to the nightmares that had plagued her for years. Shepard frowned. “Doesn’t sound like a very happy dream.”

“It wasn’t,” Nihlus admitted. He hesitantly set a hand on her cheek. When she didn’t protest or shirk away, he let out a long sigh. “When I went down, I thought it was a geth sniper. I thought you’d been hit, too. I felt you fall beside me. I thought…” His mandibles twitched, showing the barest trace of fear. “I just remember thinking, ‘Spirits no. Not Jane.’”

Shepard set her hand over his and curled her fingers around it. “Nihlus…you’re not going to lose me. I promise.” She gave his hand a firm squeeze. “But you’d better stick with me. I can’t do this without you.”

“Of course you can,” Nihlus said. He seemed amused. 

“I need my partner,” Shepard replied. She leaned close and set her forehead against his. The intimate gesture caught Nihlus slightly off-guard, but he seemed pleased. He tilted his head as though he meant to kiss her-

“Commander.” Joker’s voice came through the intercom, effectively destroying the moment.

Shepard and Nihlus both let out a sigh. They reluctantly disentangled themselves from each other, knowing it was pointless to try and pick up where they’d left off. Shepard looked up towards the speaker. “Yes, Joker?”

“ETA to Noveria is thirty minutes. Better get your ground team prepped and ready.”

“Thank you, Joker.” Shepard got to her feet, then offered Nihlus a hand to help him to his. “I want you to stay back on this one. You’re still a bit rusty.”

Nihlus’s mandibles flared indignantly, but he nodded once. “Just…be careful, Jane.”

*

They finally stepped into the lab, and were greeted by Benezia’s lone figure standing on the landing. She did not look at them as they entered. Instead her gaze was focused on a creature in a giant glass enclosure. It was larger than the others they had faced. It was as long as a bus, with writhing tendrils and huge glassy eyes. 

“You do not know the privilege to be a mother. There is power in creation. To shape a life. Turn it towards happiness or despair.” Benezia tightly gripped the railing and frowned at the trapped creature. “Her children were to be ours. Raised to hunt and slay Saren’s enemies.” She turned to face Shepard and her companions. “I will not be moved by sympathy, no matter who you bring to this confrontation.” Her gaze was fixed squarely on Liara. 

“I came here of my own volition, Mother,” Liara spoke up. 

Benezia crossed her arms. “I’m sure you did.” Her gaze drifted to Shepard. “Like attracts like, as it were. One failed daughter draws in another.”

Shepard frowned. “Benezia, this doesn’t have to end in violence. I refuse to believe you’d hurt Liara- or me, even. You trained me when I was young. You were the one who told me to think of what I wanted.”

“I was foolish.” Benezia waved her hand dismissively. “Saren was right to be so strict with you- I see I should have followed his example.” She began to descend down the stairs. “He asked me to leave you alive. But I think it would be better for all involved if the galaxy were rid of you.” Her eyes flicked to Liara. “Both of you.”

The doors opened, and more asari hurried into the room. Shepard’s breath caught in her throat. Asari commandos- the most deadly soldiers in the galaxy. They aimed their guns at her, Liara, and Ashley and waited obediently for their orders. There was a moment where time seemed to stop. Shepard glanced to Liara, wondering what was going on in her mind. Was she thinking of all the times Benezia had been there for her? Cared for her? Looked after her when she was sick? Or was she thinking of all the arguments, mentally combing them for clues as to how they both ended up here?

Shepard rolled behind cover as the asari fired. She glanced back to see Ashley charging in, shields up, and knock an asari commando to the ground. That actually made Shepard smile. Ashley Williams may have been born human, but deep down, she had the stalwart heart of a krogan. 

She refocused herself, and for a moment Shepard delved back into the battle mindset Saren had hammered into her. Fire. Roll. Fire, fire, fire. The asari’s shields went down and Shepard charged her biotics and slammed into her with enough force to send her sprawling across the ground. Shepard fired one last shot into her head before she could get up. Target neutralized.

“AH!” Liara let out a yell of pain. A commando was looming over her, her gun pointed at her head. Shepard didn’t think twice. She fired, and the commando dropped to one knee. Liara finished her off and gave Shepard a nod of thanks. Then her eyes widened suddenly and she grabbed Shepard’s arm, pulling her close. “WATCH OUT!”

The clips fired by the geth that had just entered the room bounced harmlessly off of the biotic shield Liara projected. 

“…I’d say we’re even,” Shepard said. 

“Agreed,” Liara replied.

Working as a team, they took out asari commando and geth unit alike. Ashley needed no help. She vaulted from cover to cover with ease. She fired shots that never seemed to miss. She was the perfect soldier. Shepard couldn’t help but think it wasn’t a mistake that Ashley was all that remained of her squad. It’d take more than a few asari commandos and geth to bring her down. 

And then it was just them and Benezia. The now always-present knot in Shepard’s chest tightened dangerously.

“This is not over.” Benezia’s voice still did not sound like her own. It was her voice, but it wasn’t _her_. The tone was all wrong. Shepard remembered the asari Matriarch as gentle, reassuring, wise- all the things she was supposed to be. What had happened? What had made her change so drastically in just a little over a decade? “I will not- You will- You-”

She turned, and in an instant her entire demeanor changed. “You must listen.”

The drastic change caught Shepard off-guard. But before she could do or say anything, Benezia strode towards her and clasped her hands over Shepard’s. 

“Saren still whispers in my mind, but I can resist the indoctrination briefly. Parts of my mind are still my own, though I don’t know for how long.” Benezia’s eyes were desperate. Pleading. She did not look strong or wise or gentle. She was scared. Shepard was suddenly reminded of that night, several years ago, when Saren came into her room when he thought she was sleeping. The fear in his voice had terrified her then, and the fear in Benezia’s eyes terrified her now. This was not a trick. This was really happening.

“I don’t understand,” Shepard managed to say.

“People are not themselves around Saren. They come to idolize him- it has something to with Sovereign, his ship.” Benezia squeezed Shepard’s hands almost painfully tight. “The longer you’re aboard, the more Saren seems to be correct. I thought I could resist it. I was wrong. Now, listen carefully to what I say.” 

Shepard stood there, frozen in place, as Benezia told her of the Mu Relay and its location. She pressed an OSD into Shepard’s palm and curled her fingers over it. The data loaded on to it would lead them directly to the relay- if Saren did not beat them to it. 

“You must be careful,” Benezia said. She set a hand on Shepard’s cheek. “Saren is not your father anymore, Jane. He is someone- something else. I know not what he has become, or why, but you must be cautious. I saw it years ago, when you mentioned a change. I’ve tried to keep him at bay ever since. You must succeed where I failed. You must-” Suddenly Benezia drew away, as if in pain. 

“Mother!” Liara attempted to run forward, but was held back by Ashley. “Mother, please! Fight him! Don’t leave!”

Benezia cast a sorrowful, pained look towards her daughter. “Goodbye…Little Wing.” 

Her eyes squeezed shut and a painful tremor racked her body. Then, slowly, she turned back towards them. The Matriarch’s eyes were murderous. “Die.”

*

Liara knelt over her mother’s body, sobbing. All Shepard could do was lean against the glass that had, until moments before, encased the rachni queen. She wondered what her decision to release the living fossil on to the galaxy would mean for its future. Saren had taught her all about the rachni wars. The rachni were dangerous, and terrifyingly efficient at killing. But how could she kill an entire species when she had already cost a teammate her mother? 

“I don’t understand…” Liara kept saying the words, over and over. “I don’t understand…how this happened…”

“Commander, we need to go,” Ashley said. She set a hand on Liara’s shoulder. “I don’t think any of us are fit for duty right now.”

“I think you’re right,” Shepard replied finally. She pushed away from the glass. There was no point in pondering her decisions. What would be, would be. That was all there was to it. She walked over to Liara and helped her to her feet. 

Together, the three of them made their way back to the dock. 

All Shepard wanted was the refuge of her room, and perhaps a strong drink. But all that awaited her was an urgent message from the Council. The Mu Relay would have to wait. They’d picked up an urgent distress signal on a planet called Virmire, and it required their immediate attention. Shepard told Joker to set a course for the system, sent the grieving Liara back to the med bay, and checked over the rest of the ship and crew. Only then did she finally retire to her quarters.

It was a relief to peel off her armor and throw it on the floor. Piece by piece she threw away her protection, until she was left in only her skintight black undersuit. 

The door opened, and she didn’t need to look up to realize it was Nihlus. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said immediately.

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” Nihlus said. He sat down beside her on the edge of her bed. “So I’m going to sit here in silence until you do.” 

So they did. They sat there for five minutes, not looking at each other. Ten minutes. Thirty minutes. An hour. Two hours. Shepard’s head began to droop, but Nihlus showed no signs of wavering. Finally, she sighed. “You’ll sit here all night if you have to, won’t you?” 

“My willpower is quite legendary,” Nihlus replied. 

Shepard let out a groan and flopped back on to her bed. Her eyes fixated on one of the lights above her head. “It was my fault. What happened to Benezia.”

Her companion allowed himself to relax slightly, leaning back on to one of his hands. “I can’t wait to hear the mental gymnastics you went through to get to that conclusion.” 

“I told her Saren had been acting erratically, and she started watching him. It’s because of me that she got involved with this. It’s because of me she got…indoctrinated.” The word seemed overly dramatic to her, but it seemed almost demeaning to refer to what Saren had done as ‘brainwashing.’ 

“Hm. I wasn’t disappointed, at the very least. That was quite the impressive leap.” Nihlus’s humor was, as always, drier than the radioactive deserts of Tuchanka. At this point, it wasn’t appreciated. Shepard shot him a glare, but he seemed unperturbed. “Benezia was a centuries old Matriarch who had all the wisdom of several lifetimes. She was more than capable of making her own decisions. And even the wisest of us can make a bad call.”

Well, she had to give him that. “Doesn’t give much hope for the rest of us.”

Nihlus shrugged. “What I wonder is how Saren was even able to accomplish this. Controlling the mind of an asari Matriarch is no easy feat.”

“She said the key was his ship.” Shepard replied. “He must have found it somewhere- maybe it’s Prothean.”

“I don’t think so,” Nihlus said. He frowned. “I have a sinking suspicion that whoever built that ship, also built that artifact Saren was so obsessed with.” His words seemed to hang in the air, and in an instant Shepard knew he was right. The two had to be connected. With a sigh, Nihlus stood. “Either way, we should both get some rest. I’ve decided I’m going to accompany you on your trip to Virmire, and that is not up for debate.”

Shepard, surprisingly, didn’t feel like fighting him on that. Rather, she just didn’t want him to leave. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Stay? I just…I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

Nihlus hesitated, then nodded. Within minutes she was asleep, her head tucked snugly against his carapace. She was still haunted by nightmares. But whenever she awoke and found Nihlus sleeping beside her, she managed to find comfort.


	24. Virmire Part 1

Everything was the same. The field, the farmhouse. Shepard instinctively began to sprint towards her childhood home. Arms pumping, heart pounding, she ran. She didn’t look back. She knew she was being chased. She could hear the footsteps behind her, unrelenting and untiring. All she had to do was reach the house. She’d be safe. She was almost there. Shepard reached out an arm, trying to grab the door- 

A hand clenched tightly around her arm and wrenched her back. She let out a scream as someone threw her back down the porch steps and on to the ground. But instead of a bloody batarian or a member of her family, Saren loomed over her. 

“Saren,” she said. He was going to kill her. She began to crawl backwards across the ground. She couldn’t fight Saren. He was too fast, too strong. 

Saren advanced. His mechanical eyes had a sinister glow to them. He pulled his pistol from his belt and pointed it at her. 

“Saren,” she pleaded. “Don’t. Please, don’t-”

Her words were drowned out by a monstrous mechanical roar. It rumbled in her chest and seemed to make the very ground beneath her quake. Sovereign, Saren’s ship, slowly descended through the clouds. It crushed her house underneath it, leaving nothing but splintered wood and shingles in its wake. 

“Victory at any cost, Jane,” Saren said. He fired-

*

Shepard awoke with a start. She was laying in her bed, now alone. Nihlus must have slipped out of her room. It was probably for the best. They didn’t need the crew seeing him coming out of her quarters in the early morning. Shepard sat up and put her head in her hands. Her heart was still pounding, and she wished Nihlus were there to comfort her. 

“That damn ship…” she murmured.

It was like her mind was trying to tell her something. There was something about Sovereign that was off, but she couldn’t comprehend what that might be. Unable to go back to sleep, Shepard threw off the covers and hit the shower. The steam and hot water cleared her mind a bit. Soon the nightmare was forgotten. Other, more pressing worries took its place. They were approaching Virmire. The spirits only knew what they would find there. 

She spent the morning gearing up. She fixed the dings in her armor the best she could and checked over all her guns. Then, when she was done, she went back to her cabin. Sitting underneath her bed was a sleek black box, covered in dust. Shepard opened it and pulled out a pistol- the same one Nihlus had given her for her eighteenth birthday.

“And here I was thinking you lost it,” Nihlus said. He stood in the doorway, geared up and ready to go. 

“I only use it when I need good luck,” Shepard replied, clipping it on to her belt. “Did I tell you this was the only gun I had left during the Skyllian Blitz? It saved my life. And a colony.”

“You’re welcome, I suppose,” Nihlus said. He rolled his head and rubbed his neck. She wondered if the wound Saren had given him still caused him trouble. “Are you ready?”

Shepard nodded. “As ready as I can be. We have no idea what we’re getting into.”

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” Nihlus assured her. 

Shepard gave him a skeptical look. After these past few weeks, she was prepared for anything and everything to go wrong. Luck hadn’t been on her side since this whole thing started. She doubted the spirits would deign to bless her with it now. “Careful, Kryik. You’re going to jinx us.” 

They both went silent for a moment. She knew their minds had gone back to the dig site- and to the incident on Eden Prime. Part of her still didn’t believe it was real. Even after everything – Tali’s evidence, Liara’s rescue, the Thorian, Benezia – Shepard didn’t want to believe that Saren was capable of this. What had happened to the man who used to be her hero? What had happened to the stern but fair Spectre who swore to protect her? 

“We should get moving,” Nihlus said finally. 

Shepard shook her head and refocused. She couldn’t dwell on that. Not now. Not when they had no idea what they’d be facing. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

*

Nihlus had jinxed it.

The Normandy sat on a sandy white beach, completely grounded. Her crew milled around while she got a better read on the situation. It was entirely beyond anything she could have imagined. Saren’s secret base, an army of geth, and a cure for the genophage. They had no hope of back-up, no hope of escape. All they had was her crew and Kirrahe’s small team of salarian special ops. They weren’t soldiers- they were spies. Espionage was their forte, not battle. 

“Spirits, if you’re listening, I could use some help,” Shepard grumbled. She sat down on the ground, attempting to think of a plan. There had to be a way they could do this. Maybe she could go to Saren, use herself as bait- no, she couldn’t guarantee that that would work. What if he just killed her? Shepard had no way of predicting Saren’s behavior. He hadn’t tried to kill her on Eden Prime, but who’s to say he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice? Then they’d just be down a commander, and she’d be dead. They also couldn’t match Saren’s forces in terms of brute strength. He had geth swarming all over the island like ants. They were probably outnumbered three to one. 

_Think, Jane,_ she thought. Then, a bit reluctantly, she asked herself: _What would Saren do?_

Saren would want to charge right in, but that would be impossible. His focus would be getting the nuke into the base, and getting it to go off no matter what the cost. So he would attempt to sneak past. But not before making some sort of distraction that would keep the geth off of him-

Shepard looked over towards Kirrahe and the other salarians. And suddenly, she got an idea. 

“Kirrahe,” she yelled.

The salarian walked over. “Yes, Commander?”

“I have a plan.” She drew a square in the sand. “This is the base. If we try a full frontal assault, we’re dead. If we try to sneak past their defenses now, we’re dead.” She looked up at him. “We need a distraction.”

Kirrahe’s eyes lit up, understanding immediately. “Two teams. One to stage a frontal assault, one to infiltrate the base. Once in, we set the bomb and destroy everything.” He nodded slowly. “It just might work.”

“I need to get into that base,” Shepard said. It was paramount to her mission. That base would hold a treasure trove of information on Saren’s plans- and also, she hoped, a clue as to why he was doing this. That meant that the salarian team would have to take point. “I know your men aren’t trained for this. Can they hold the line?”

Kirrahe smirked. “Of course we can.”

“SHEPARD!” 

Shepard turned as a very angry krogan began marching towards her. Wrex was pissed, and she had a feeling she knew exactly why. She gave Kirrahe a look. He got the message and stepped away. Him being there for this conversation would only make it worse. Krogan and salarian weren’t exactly known for their long-standing friendship.

“Wrex,” Shepard said, turning to face the krogan. He towered over her. 

“This isn’t right, and you know it,” Wrex growled. “If there’s a cure for the genophage, we shouldn’t destroy it. My people need it.” His hand was flexing dangerously close to his gun. He looked like he was about to blow a gasket- or blow her head off. Whichever occurred to him first. 

Shepard wasn’t so sure how she felt about there being a cure for the genophage. She was raised by Saren, and he’d taught her it’d been a necessity. But then again, Saren had taught her a lot of things that weren’t necessarily true. All she knew that, at present, this ‘cure’ was as much of a weapon as the genophage was. “Easy, Wrex. I’m not the enemy here.”

Wrex stepped forward, leaving barely any room in between them. A blatant challenge for the krogan. “Really? The way I see it, Saren was the one who created a cure for my people. You want to destroy it.”

This was turning ugly, but she wasn’t sure how to divert the situation. “Wrex, this ‘cure’ is a weapon. Just as much as the genophage was. We can’t just let it be.”

Quicker than she thought possible, Wrex drew his gun. He pressed it directly against her chest. There’d be no running or dodging if he fired. “If you don’t give me a better reason that that in the next ten seconds, then I’m done with you.”

She glanced over her shoulder. Everyone on the beach had their eyes trained on her and Wrex. She saw Nihlus get down on one knee, prepping a shot. She held up a hand to stop him and looked back to the krogan. “Wrex. If Saren is allowed to use this cure, your people become slaves. Tools. Is that you what you want for the mighty krogan? To be used, then tossed aside? Again?”

That seemed to give him pause. Wrex considered it for a moment, weighing her argument, then let out a sigh. “…we were tools for the Council, once. Then they neutered us. Your father won’t be as generous.”

“…no, he won’t,” Shepard said. 

Wrex lowered his gun and put it away. “I don’t like this, Shepard. But I trust you enough to follow your lead.”

The situation diffused, Shepard let out a sigh. But she still had to make sure Wrex knew who was in charge. Krogan respected strength. Talking him down wasn’t enough. To keep his respect, she had to show him that she was worthy of it. So Shepard did the only thing she could think to: she reared her head back and slammed it into Wrex’s crest. The headbutt caught him off guard, and he took one step back. 

“This is _my_ mission,” Shepard said sternly. “Next time you want to question my judgement, don’t.”

There was another tense moment. Then, finally, Wrex smirked. “Heh. Aye aye, commander.” 

With that business taken care of, she walked back to Kirrahe. He was giving her a bemused look. She ignored it. “Get your men ready. I’ll be sending Williams with you. She’s one of my best soldiers. And a little inter-species cooperation would do her some good, I think.”

“We’ll take good care of her,” Kirrahe said. He looked over Shepard for a moment, then offered her his hand. She shook it. “Good luck Commander.”

*

Inside the facility, it was worse than she’d anticipated.

Saren wasn’t just using it as a breeding facility for his krogan army. He was using it to study the effects of indoctrination- the same force he’d used to ensnare Benezia. It turned people into mindless husks, milling aimlessly in their cells. Unable to help the long-gone subjects, they made their way up to Saren’s lab. A terrified asari gave them access, and Shepard decided to forewarn her of the impending nuclear demolition. She took off down the hall, panicking. 

“I enjoyed that,” Nihlus remarked, watching her go. “She’ll be arrested if she manages to make it off the island. Aiding and abetting.” 

“Hope the money was good,” Kaidan remarked. 

Shepard ignored them both and went to the elevator. She stepped inside and waited impatiently for her teammates. Nihlus had insisted on accompanying her, as had Kaidan. And she couldn’t help but sense a bit of…tension between the two of them. 

“When we get up to Saren’s lab, search everything,” Nihlus said. He stepped in beside her. “Every shred of evidence goes to the Council.”

“Isn’t the mission a bit more important?” Kaidan asked. “What if Saren is there waiting for us?”

Shepard let out a sigh and hit the button. They slowly began to ascend. Her stomach began to churn. What would she do if Saren were in his lab? What would she say? Would they be able to take him down? If she brought him back to the Council alive, what would happen to him? Would he be imprisoned? Put to death? 

But when the doors opened, all that was in there was an empty lab. Shepard was immediately drawn to a structure at the far end of the room. Another Prothean beacon. She approached it slowly. This time, when the beacon lit up, she knew what to expect.

_Smoke, hot and sulfuric, filling her lungs, choking her-_

_Screaming, shrieks of agony and fear, suffering and pain, the last sounds of a dying world-_

_A huge ship descending through the clouds with a mechanical roar loud enough to shake the world to the core-_

_The home world is lost- we are lost-_

Shepard gasped. When her senses returned, she was kneeling on the floor. Nihlus and Kaidan were on either side of her. She grabbed Nihlus’s arm and let him help her up. “I saw the Reapers again. Sovereign must be a Reaper ship that Saren found. I saw one just like it.”

“Indoctrination must be a tool the Reapers used,” Kaidan said. “And Saren is trying to figure out how to bend it to his disposal.”

“We still don’t know why,” Nihlus pointed out. He looked up at the walkway. “I think there’s a computer up there. Let’s see if that offers any answers.”

The computer was unprotected. Saren had likely thought his lab was completely secure, so he hadn’t bothered putting any security measures on it. It seemed like an odd mistake for him. But perhaps he’d grown sloppy over the years. Shepard hurriedly looked through the files and saved them on to her omni-tool. There were files on Saren’s research into indoctrination, and some on the cure for the genophage. But one document gave her pause. She opened it.

“What is it, Commander?” Kaidan asked.

“Instructions,” she said. She could hardly believe what she was reading. “Saren wants the geth to build a secure facility on Rannoch…” 

“For what purpose?” Nihlus looked over her shoulder, intrigued. 

“To keep _me_ there,” Shepard said. 

The designs included a cell that was more or less an apartment. It had a bedroom, a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom. But it would be built underground, accessible only by a single secure elevator. He planned on building a facility on top of it; it would be devoted entirely to keeping her safe, fed, and – more importantly – contained. 

He’d nicknamed the facility ‘Jane’s Bunker.’

“He intends to capture you,” Nihlus said. He sounded just as confused as she felt. 

“And let me rot underground, where no one can reach me.” The thought made Shepard’s blood run cold. She wasn’t sure what was worse. Saren wanting to kill her, or _this._ But she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She transferred all of the data over to her omni-tool. The lab appeared to offer nothing else. Instead of answers, she would be leaving with more questions.

“Let’s get out of here and get that nuke armed,” Shepard said. She turned. Then, from behind her, a voice:

_“You are not Saren.”_


	25. Virmire Part 2

_“You exist because we allow it. And you will end because we demand it.”_

“Move!” Shepard yelled. It felt like everything was moving too slowly, herself and her teammates included. Her head felt dizzy. But she had no time to sit and contemplate what had just happened. They had to unload the nuke and wipe this place off the map. One way or another. After that…spirits, help them.

_“The time of our return is coming. Our numbers will darken the sky of every world.”_

They shredded through geth, and Shepard hardly even noticed until she stepped over them. The Normandy swooped in low. Kaidan helped unload the bomb. But all Shepard could think about was Sovereign and the things it had said. Shepard had arrived on this planet a commander and a Spectre. She felt that now, in a matter of hours, she had become part of an endangered species. 

Word came in from Ashley. They were pinned. They needed rescue. Shepard pointed to Nihlus and Wrex, and then the three of them were off. 

_“Your words are as empty as your future. I am the vanguard of your destruction.”_

“Reinforcements!”

Shepard looked up. A geth ship swooped low. It was heading directly for the bomb site.

“Lieutenant! There’s a geth ship inbound to your location!” Ashley came on over the intercom.

“It’s already here and bleeding geth all over the place! We can’t hold them!” Kaidan said.

Shepard froze, dread beginning to creep over her. Then, just when she thought it couldn’t get worse, it did.

“I’m arming the nuke!” Kaidan said.

“Damn it Alenko!” Shepard hissed. She pressed a finger to her earpiece. “What in the hell are you thinking, LT?!”

“I’m making sure this bomb goes off no matter what,” Kaidan said. “It’s done. Keep going to the AA tower and get Williams. We’ll hold them off for as long as we can.”

“Negative! Go back for Alenko!” Ashley argued.

Shepard leaned forward against the railing. She felt like she was going to puke. Her hands were shaking. They couldn’t get both teams. There just wasn’t enough time, especially not now that the nuke was armed and ready to go. She was going to have to choose between her teammates. Ashley or Kaidan. Courage or compassion. Soldier or biotic. Trusted friend or trusted friend. The decision seemed impossible. 

“Jane,” Nihlus said. He spoke gently, quietly. He didn’t have to say anything else. 

She needed to make a call. And now. Or both of them were going to die.

“…radio Joker and tell him to meet us at the bomb site,” she said. The weight of her decision came down like a blow to the back. The wind left her. She’d lost people before. Jenkins wasn’t the first casualty she’d ever had. Scores of her friends had died in the Skyllian Blitz. But none of those deaths had been a direct result of her actions. It had always been someone else bearing that weight. But now, she supposed, it was her turn to carry that burden. 

Kaidan’s voice was hesitant, wavering. “Yes, Commander, I…”

“You know it’s the right choice, LT,” Ashley said.

Hearing her voice was like a stab to the chest. She was still out there. She was still alive. Some of Kirrahe’s squad must be, too. If she could just be stronger, faster… “I’m sorry, Ash. I had to make a choice.”

“I understand,” Ashley said. There was a smile in her voice. “I don’t regret a thing. Williams out.”

“Let’s go,” Shepard said finally. She turned and began sprinting back towards the bomb site. Shepard wasn’t about to let Ashley’s sacrifice be all for nothing. They were going to destroy this place and get out with the tatters of her remaining crew. Even if it killed her, Shepard was going to make sure that the Normandy left this forsaken planet behind it. 

When they reached the bomb site, Kaidan and the remaining crew were pinned down behind cover. Shepard wasted no time. She threw up a biotic shield and charged in. She fired, she warped the space around them, she threw geth into the walls. Even when husks came slogging through the water, Shepard was unfazed. She fired – her crew now at her back – downing each one before they could reach her. Or, more importantly, any of her crew. Shepard wasn’t going to lose another man. Not today. 

Suddenly something slammed into her back, sending her sprawling through the water. She sat up, coughing and sore. When she looked up at her attacker, her heart stopped.

Saren.

He stood there plainly, without any fear of her. Her courage failed. All Shepard could do was stare.

“Commander!” Kaidan yelled. He started to rush to her aid, but Nihlus grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Stay back! That’s an order, Alenko!” Saren wouldn’t kill her. She knew that now. But no one on her crew, not even Nihlus, was safe. Slowly, Shepard got to her feet. She reached for her pistol, then decided against it. If he wasn’t willing to kill her, maybe he’d be willing to listen to her. Maybe she could talk some sense into him. 

“I’m impressed, Jane,” he said. “My geth were convinced the salarians were the real threat. I couldn’t have devised a better diversion myself.” 

Shepard couldn’t help but laugh. It made her chest hurt. Whatever Saren had hit her with was most likely meant to incapacitate her, so he could send her to that bunker beyond the Perseus Veil. But he’d underestimated her- and her biotic shields. “After all these years, that’s the only praise I can get out of you?”

Saren did not find the irony quite as amusing. What a shock. “It was all for nothing, Jane. I can’t let anyone disrupt what’s happening here. Not even you. You don’t understand what’s at stake.”

“Spirits,” she said. “Here I am, a Spectre and a Commander, and you still talk down to me like I’m a little girl.” Shepard frowned and gripped her side. It was stinging. A geth must have gotten a shot in. “I know about the Reapers, Saren. I know they’re coming back to wipe us out, too. What else is there to understand?” 

He stepped closer to her, obviously frustrated. “You’ve seen the visions, Jane! There’s nothing we can do to stop them. _Nothing._ The Protheans tried to fight, and they were destroyed. Nothing is left of them save for a few decrepit ruins. Trillions dead, an entire civilization lost. But what if they’d bowed before their invaders? Isn’t submission preferable to complete annihilation? The Protheans might still be here, if they’d only just let reason guide their actions. We don’t have to make the same mistakes, Jane.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Shepard said. “You just want to…give up? Let them take over?! I’d rather die than be a slave, Saren!”

“This is why I never came forward with this,” Saren growled. He was pacing now. It reminded her of a predator, slowly becoming more and more agitated within its cage. “I’ve known the Reapers were coming. For years, I tried to find a way to stop it. I had to. I had a galaxy to protect- and I had you.” He looked towards her, his eyes piercing. “But we organics are not rational creatures. A caged animal will fight to the end. Even now, your Gunnery Chief pushes back against the inevitable.” 

His words were a knife in her chest. “She’s going to die because of you.”

“Think of how many more will die if we try to fight the Reapers!” Saren snapped. “Our only hope is to submit and to make ourselves useful. That is the only way we can be saved. It’s the only way I can protect you!”

_“How am I supposed to stop something like this? …how am I supposed to protect you…?”_

Suddenly it all came flooding back to her. That night Saren came into her room, with fear in his voice, must have been the night he realized the truth. The night he finally understood – after studying Reaper tech for years – what was going to happen. 

_“I’ll find a way. Nothing is going to take you away from me.”_

“I sought Sovereign out and joined its cause of my own volition,” Saren said. He frowned. “Though there are…risks.”

“Sovereign is influencing you!” It all made sense now. This was the reason he was doing this. He wasn’t evil, or a traitor. He was being used. His deepest desires were being turned into weapons. All Saren ever wanted was to maintain order and to protect the many. To protect her. The Reaper was using that against him. 

“No!” Saren growled. “My mind is still my own. Sovereign cannot find the Conduit without my help. It needs me.”

“Saren, please.” Shepard walked towards him. She was begging him. But she had to make him see reason. “Sovereign is already influencing you. Come with me. Help me find the Conduit. We can stop this together.” Shepard reached out and set a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to do this. We can stop them!” 

For a moment, it seemed as though Saren might be swayed. Then his eyes narrowed. “You stupid girl. I’m doing this for us! All of us! You want to doom our entire civilization!” He grabbed hold of her neck and squeezed. “I will save more lives than have ever existed! YOU WILL NOT STOP ME!” He lifted her then, as easily as she were a child, his hand crushing her throat.

Shepard struggled against him. She clawed at his fingers. Her legs kicked helplessly at the air. Ten seconds was beginning to feel like ten hours. Her head felt like it was about to explode. Her eyes watered, and darkness was creeping on the edge of her vision. She tried to speak, but her words only came out in choked whispers. “Saren…please…please…” The world around her was beginning to fade. She looked into his eyes, hateful and cruel, and could not recognize the person she saw. Where was her hero…? Where was… “Father…”

Saren let go.

Shepard crashed into the water. She sat up and gasped. Her chest heaved. Air. Sweet, precious air. It filled her lungs and eased the pain she felt. But her heart was still beating fast. Saren had almost…he had almost killed her. Slowly, Shepard looked up at him.

And for the first time in years, she saw her father.

He looked completely stricken. Saren looked down at his hands, as if he did not believe what he had almost done. Then he fell to his knees beside her. He pressed his forehead against hers. He traced his fingers over the bruises that were already blossoming on her neck. “Jane… what have I done…” 

“Saren…” But before she could say anything, Saren pulled her into a hug.

It was not possessive, or violent. It was gentle. It was protective. It reminded her of when she was a little girl. Back then it seemed as though Saren could keep her safe from anyone or anything. He was her hero, her savior.

But how could he protect her from himself?

“What has Sovereign done to me…?” he whispered, his words barely audible.

Suddenly, the alarm went off. The Normandy swooped overhead, preparing for a landing. Shepard looked from Saren to the bomb. He helped her to her feet. For a moment they just stood there, hands clasped together, unsure of what to do. Shepard began to tug him towards the Normandy, but he was frozen. 

“Go,” he said. His eyes were pained as he let go of her hand. 

Shepard looked at him, then turned and sprinted back towards the Normandy. When she glanced back, Saren was already gone. 

*

“Ilos,” Liara said. Her eyes refocused, and Shepard sat down. Her head was killing her. The injuries she’d sustained combined with the fatigue of joining with Liara had drained her. She barely listened. “The beacon was a warning- the Conduit is on Ilos.”

“Ilos can only be accessed through the Mu Relay,” Tali said. 

“…which is why Saren needed the location,” Garrus finished. 

Shepard rubbed her temples. All she wanted to do was sleep. Sleep and forget. “The files I got off of Saren’s drive seem to indicate he thinks it’s the key to bringing the Reapers back.”

_“Our numbers will darken the sky of every world.”_

A shiver went down Shepard’s spine. “Joker, did you send my report back to the Citadel?”

“Yes Commander,” he said. “A message just came through- they’re organizing a multi-species effort against Saren. They want us back at the Citadel pronto.”

The relief in the room was palpable. They weren’t alone in this anymore. The Council was finally going to do something. Shepard was already making battle plans in her mind. The Normandy would lead a fleet to Ilos. Then, while the geth were occupied with fending off the attackers, she would find Saren. And she would…she would… 

She would do _something_. Shepard refused to believe he was lost. Saren had already broken through Sovereign’s influence once. Who’s to say he couldn’t do it again? Then, once he way away from the Reaper, his mind would become his own again. He could help her beat this. The Reapers wouldn’t stand a chance. A slow smile slid on to her face. It was a small kernel of hope, but after the day she had, Shepard was going to hold on to it and not let go.

After giving Joker the ok to head for the Citadel, she went back to her quarters and collapsed on the bed. Her limbs felt like lead. She was almost asleep when the door opened, and she didn’t have to lift her face from the pillow to know who it was. 

“I don’t want to talk about it, Nihlus,” she said, her voice muffled through the pillow.

Nihlus sat down on the edge of her bed. “I saw what happened.”

Shepard rolled on to her side and let out a sigh. “Sovereign is influencing him. It’s not his fault. We can fix him.” She reached out and grabbed Nihlus’s hand. “I know we can.”

Nihlus didn’t look as certain, but he said nothing. He simply laid down beside her. His arms wrapped around her, and he pulled her close. “I’m sorry about Williams.”

She rolled over and tucked her head against his chest. There, in his arms, Shepard felt she could finally relax. She didn’t need to be the Commander. She didn’t need to be the Spectre. She didn’t need to be a fearless leader. She didn’t have to pretend she had all the answers or knew what the future held. She didn’t have to be Shepard. With Nihlus, she could just be Jane. 

And all Jane wanted to do was cry. So she did. She laid there and cried, clutching on to Nihlus as though he were the only thing keeping her grounded. She cried, and cried, until finally she just couldn’t anymore. Only then, still wrapped in Nihlus’s arms, did Jane finally fall asleep.


	26. A Stolen Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there be light smut ahead.

“They can’t DO this!” Shepard snarled.

She was pacing around her quarters, angrier than she’d ever been in her life. She should have known the Council wasn’t going to really do anything. They thought setting up fleets by the relays would stop Saren- as if the Reapers wouldn’t rip through them like wet paper. But they didn’t believe their story about the mechanized monstrosities. And when Reapers swarmed thousands of unsuspecting planets and colonies, the Normandy would remain docked on the Citadel. Shut out, locked down, useless. 

“This is _my_ ship!” Shepard said. “They can’t ground me!” 

“They can,” Nihlus said. “And they did.”

Shepard let out a yell. She picked up the nearest object and chucked it at the wall. Whatever it was bounced off with a heavy, but satisfying, _thunk._ She felt better- if a bit childish. But she had to get to Ilos. How was she supposed to save Saren if she couldn’t reach him? Not to mention, he was about to open the way for thousands – maybe millions – of Reapers. They would destroy everything. Their extinction was looming, and everyone else in the galaxy was completely oblivious. 

“We have to get out of here,” Shepard said. She paused and ran her hands through her hair. “We have to. We’re all going to die if we don’t. Saren-” Her voice caught in her throat, and for a moment, she was tempted to cry again. But she couldn’t. Now she had to be strong. She had to figure out a way to stop this. “Spirits, I could kill them. They don’t know what they’re doing- and I’m just the tratior’s crazy daughter! They’re not going to listen to me.” 

“Calm down,” Nihlus said. “We’ll figure out something.”

She stopped pacing. Nihlus was right, as always. They had to think this through calmly. She sat down and pressed her hands together. She tried to think. What would Saren do if he were in this situation? If it were her being controlled by the ancient killer robot, about to unleash the end of the world, what would he do?

“…he’d steal the damn ship,” Shepard realized.

“What?” Nihlus blinked.

“I said we’re stealing the ship,” she said. “We’ll go to Ilos ourselves.”

Nihlus frowned. “You want to go against the Council’s orders? Shepard, if they find out, you could be court martialed. We both could be.”

“Court martialed or the end of the world. You pick one, Kryik.” Shepard had already made up her mind. She’d played the Council’s game long enough. It was time to take a page out of Saren’s book and do things the direct way- _her_ way. She began to pace again. The ship was completely locked down thanks to Udina. They’d have to get into his office, somehow, and disable the lockdown. But would they have time to get back to the Normandy before someone realized what was going on? Probably not. They’d need someone to stay behind-

Shepard’s omni-tool lit up. She looked at what it said: _Incoming call from Captain David Anderson._

“Perfect,” she said. 

*

She met with Anderson and discussed the plan in a crowded bar. He would break into Udina’s office and get the lockdown reversed. They would only have a few minutes, so they had to make it count. After the meeting, Shepard stood on the bridge with Joker. The entire crew was tense. This was treason. High treason, to be specific. But it was this or the return of the Reapers. So everyone – from Nihlus to the youngest recruit – was resolved to this one last mission. 

“He’s certainly taking his time,” Joker said. His control screen was still dead and inaccessible. He drummed his fingers anxiously against the console.

“He’ll get it done,” Shepard said. But she was silently praying to the spirits for help. She prayed to the spirit of the Normandy itself, begging it to bring the ship’s console to life. _Please. Just one piece of good luck. Just this once. Please._

The console lit up.

“GO!” Shepard yelled.

Joker worked faster than he ever had before. He released from the dock almost immediately, and shut off the comms when the Citadel dock workers began screaming for them to land. Joker punched in the coordinates for the Mu Relay. Then, just like that, they were gone. 

The knot of tension in her chest unraveled almost at once. Shepard let out a sigh as everyone on the bridge began to clap. They were fugitives now, but they didn’t care. They believed whole-heartedly that this was what was necessary. Then a new, tighter knot formed in the same place as the old one. Saren thought what he was doing was necessary. Were they so different, she and him? Exhausted and weighed down by worries, Shepard retired to her quarters for the evening. They still had six hours before arriving at Ilos; she should spend that time getting some rest.

But when she got to her room, Shepard couldn’t sleep. She could only think of Ilos, and Saren, and what had happened on Virmire. So she threw herself into writing up one last mission report. They’d probably read it at her court martial as a confession. At least they would know why she did what she did.

The door opened, and Nihlus walked in. He paused momentarily when he saw she was still hard at work. “Always the diligent commander.”

“You probably shouldn’t call me that,” she said, not looking up from her datapad. “After this I won’t be a commander for much longer.”

“You’re right,” Nihlus said. He sat down on the bed beside her. “If we succeed, you’ll be a hero. If we don’t, you’ll be a traitor the likes of which the galaxy hasn’t seen since-”

“My father,” she finished flatly. Shepard set the datapad aside and cradled her head in her hands. “Am I doing the right thing, Nihlus? I can’t tell anymore. Ever since Virmire- since Ashley- am I just trying to justify all the terrible things I’m doing by saying it’s ‘for the greater good?’ How am I any better than Saren?”

“Well, for one, you’re not trying to bring about the end of the world,” Nihlus said. “I’d say that puts you two in different categories altogether.”

Shepard laid down and sighed. “High treason is still high treason.”

“Jane,” Nihlus said. He looked down at her, his green eyes full of affection. “If I didn’t think you were doing the right thing, I wouldn’t be here.” 

That brought a small smile to her face. It was somewhat comforting to know that Nihlus, the definition of straight and narrow, was in agreement with her. She reached up and set a hand on his cheek. It was hard to believe she’d hated that face once. Now, he was her best friend. Her closest confidant. Her hand moved to the bandages on the back of his neck. She’d almost lost Nihlus once. If Ilos went south…

“Whatever you’re thinking,” he said, “stop it.” Nihlus gently took her hand and pressed it to his mouth. “I’m not leaving your side.”

“If I lost you…” she began. 

“You won’t,” he said, firmly. “And I better not lose you. You’re the best thing in my life.” His expression softened as he stroked her cheek. “When I came aboard the Normandy and saw you again, I could hardly believe what I saw. You’ve changed, Jane. I would march into Hell itself if you were the one leading the charge…and I don’t think I’m alone in that sentiment.”

Shepard couldn’t help but smile. Nihlus wasn’t one for wanton praise. If he said something, he meant it. “So long as I’m with you, I’m happy.”

Nihlus smiled a bit, then began to lean closer. His mouth was almost touching hers when Shepard set a hand on his chest, stopping him.

“Wait,” she said.

Nihlus paused, blinking. “Yes?”

Shepard held up a finger. “…this is usually when we get interrupted.”

He chuckled and rolled on top of her. He pressed his forehead to hers. In most contexts, it was a strictly platonic gesture. But here it decidedly was not. Shepard shut her eyes. She allowed herself to enjoy the closeness, and the way he smelled. For the first time in weeks everything else seemed to fade into the background. Saren, Benezia, the Reapers, Ashley’s loss- none of that mattered right now. What mattered was them, and this moment. 

“Nihlus,” she said, opening her eyes. “I need you.” 

Nihlus said nothing. He slipped his arms underneath her, pulling her body up to meet his, and kissed her. 

Moments later all of their clothing was laying on the floor, forgotten. Shepard let Nihlus take control. After being the Commander for so long, it was nice to let someone else be in charge. He was strong, firm, but still somehow gentle. He kissed and nipped along her neck and jaw, taking care not to leave any incriminating marks. When he pressed into her it was with a careful, deliberate slowness. Shepard tilted her head back and let out a happy sigh.

“Pleased?” he asked. He curled a hand in her hair and kissed along her neck. He began to bring their hips together, still all care and caution. 

“Mhm,” she said. She caught his mouth in a kiss and circled her legs around his waist. She pressed against him with her heels, urging him deeper. “I’ll be more pleased once you fuck the shit out of me, though.”

Nihlus chuckled at that and sat up. He set his hands on either side of her, then paused. Something in his face changed as he looked down at her. 

“What?” she asked. 

“Spirits,” he whispered. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Shepard said. It was so easy to say. And once the words were out, she felt a bit of tension leave her shoulders. She had been carrying that weight for who knows how long. But now it was finally gone. It was out in the open. They both knew, and they both agreed on one thing: no matter what happened, they weren’t letting each other go.

Thirty minutes later, Shepard curled up against Nihlus. Her legs were still shaking, and she was breathing hard. Nihlus had his eyes closed. His breath was coming out ragged. 

“You ok?” she asked. She had to admit, she was more than a little proud of herself. It took a lot to take Nihlus Kryik’s breath away.

“Give me a moment,” he said. He wrapped an arm around her and began stroking it, lightly scratching her skin with his claws. After a minute or so he finally opened his eyes. “I hope you realize, I’m not usually that loud.”

“I am.” Shepard grinned. 

Nihlus chuckled and pulled her into a kiss. “That…felt good. It felt right.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” she said. She traced the marks along his carapace with her fingers. 

“We should probably get some rest,” Nihlus said. “We’re going to need it.”

“We are,” Shepard admitted. She rolled on top of him and straddled his hips. “But I don’t really feel like sleeping. Do you?”

Nihlus smirked. “Not at all.”

And, for just a few hours, everything else in the galaxy disappeared. Everything but them.


	27. The Burden

“Get down!” Shepard screamed. 

Tali avoided the blast just in time. She rolled to the side and rerouted some power to give her shields an extra boost. Shepard sighed in relief, then turned and warped the geth that was attempting to flank her. All around them, the Citadel was in shambles. The places she knew so well, the Presidium where she spent her childhood, it was all on the brink of total destruction. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Garrus get hit, only for the bullet to be deflected off his armor.

“That was close!” he shouted.

“Keep moving towards the Council Chambers!” Shepard shouted. “Nihlus, Liara, take point with me!” 

“Understood!” Both of them fell into step beside her while the others hung back, attempting to keep the horde of geth off them. Shepard sprinted down the walkway. The doors to the Chambers were blocked, but one well-placed biotic push from her and Liara sent them flying open. The once tranquil gardens of the Council’s Chambers were now in chaos. How many times had Saren brought her here as a child? How many times had she stood up on those balconies, watching as he spoke to the three most important people in the galaxy?

But there was no time for that. On Ilos, they’d discovered what exactly was at stake. If Sovereign managed to dock with the Citadel, the invasion would begin. Places could be rebuilt. Entire civilizations could not. 

They tore through what seemed to be a token defense force on one of the landings. Shepard took the remaining stairs two at a time. She had to get to Saren, she had to talk some sense into him. This was her last chance. When she reached the last landing, her heart swelled with relief. He turned, and for a moment, she was sure it was going to be like it was on Virmire. He was going to ask for her help. He was going to say he wasn’t in control, and he needed her to break it-

Saren threw a grenade at them.

The gesture caught her so off-guard that she might have been killed if not for Nihlus. He dove and knocked her behind cover. 

“Now’s not the time to space out, Shepard!” Nihlus said. His tone was reprimanding, but his eyes were terrified. In a split second, he’d almost lost her.

“I’m glad you’re here, Jane,” Saren said. He turned back towards the monitors. “I was afraid you’d miss it. In just a few minutes, Sovereign will have full control of the Citadel. The hour of the Reapers’ return is at hand.” 

No, no, no. He couldn’t be talking like this. Not again. “Saren, listen to me. I know you’re still in there. Step away from the monitors. We can stop this. We can-”

Saren snarled. “You survived our encounter on Virmire through sheer luck. My resolve was weak. I could not harm my own daughter. But Sovereign has…improved me. I’m stronger now. I will not let my feelings get in the way of what is right.”

“Spirits,” Nihlus whispered. “It implanted in him.”

It felt like a punch to the gut. Shepard scrambled, desperately, for some small sprig of hope. They could still fix this. Whatever tech Sovereign put in Saren’s brain could be removed. She just had to get through to him. Shepard took a deep breath and rolled away from her cover before Nihlus could stop her. Saren seemed surprised, but then he smirked.

“I should thank you, Jane,” Saren said. He stepped off of his platform and began to walk down the stairs towards her. “I was filled with nothing but doubts after Virmire. But Sovereign has once again shown me the only path to salvation. There is room on that path for you as well, if you join us.”

“Jane!” Nihlus hissed. “Get back behind cover, Saren isn’t in there anymore!”

But Shepard remained steadfast. “I’m not going to live like a slave. You didn’t raise me like that.”

“Don’t you understand?” Saren growled. He was getting closer now. “You’ll die if you do not serve Sovereign! Your teammates will die, your friends will die, everyone you’ve ever known and loved- they’ll all die. The cycle cannot be stopped.”

“It can. I know it can,” Shepard said. 

Saren let out a frustrated snarl. “Always so stubborn. You saw the visions, Jane. You saw what happened to the Protheans. There is no stopping them.”

He was only a couple feet away from her now. Shepard’s heart pounded in her chest. This was her last shot. If she didn’t get through to him, she’d have to- No. She wouldn’t think about it. Saren broke through indoctrination once. He could do it again. Shepard stepped forward, closing the gap between them. Saren looked at her in surprise.

“You know this is wrong. Fight, Saren. Fight. For me. Please,” Shepard begged. 

Saren’s face slowly began to soften. The turian she’d seen on Virmire reappeared once again. He stepped back from her. His teeth clenched in pain. “Jane, stay away. I don’t want to hurt- I don’t want to hurt you. Sovereign’s grip is- it’s too strong.”

Hope. Brief, fleeting hope. Shepard stepped towards him again. “Saren-”

“Jane, I- argh!” Saren let out a scream of pain. He turned away. Then, after a heart-stopping moment, he whipped around and pointed his pistol at Shepard’s head. “You’re a weakness, a thorn, you won’t stop this. I’ll kill you!” 

Shepard saw Liara and Nihlus begin to move for their weapons. She yelled, “NO!” and threw up a biotic shield around them both. Their shots bounced off the barrier and ricocheted through the chamber. 

“JANE!” Nihlus yelled. 

Saren smirked. “Foolish girl.”

He put his finger on the trigger. Shepard felt her throat tighten. She couldn’t fight back. She couldn’t shoot the man who’d saved her life, who’d raised her. Saren was cruel, Saren was demanding, Saren was controlling- but he was all she had. Shepard closed her eyes and waited. She counted the seconds. One- two- three.

Saren didn’t fire.

When she opened her eyes, his arm was shaking. His face was one of extreme concentration. Slowly, ever-so-slowly, the gun began to point away from her. “I…won’t…hurt…my…DAUGHTER!”

Saren chucked the pistol away. It landed on the steps below. He fell to his knees, gripping his head in his hands. Shepard dropped the shield and knelt in front of him. 

“I knew you were still in there,” Shepard said.

Saren lowered his hands to look at her. His glowing robotic eyes once again held a long-forgotten softness to them. But there was something else- a grave, unspeakable sense of sorrow. “Sovereign is too strong, Jane. It’s too late for me. My mind is my own for only a few moments. I can still feel it grappling for control.”

“No,” Shepard said. She shook her head. “No, it’s not. We can fight this. We can get the implants out, we can-”

“Jane.” His tone was firm, but not severe. He set a hand on her cheek. “You have to fix the mess I made. You have to stop them. For good. If there is anyone in this galaxy who can break the cycle, it’s you.”

“No, no,” Shepard said. Tears stung at her eyes. “No, no! I need you. I can’t do this alone.”

Saren chuckled. “You have a good crew- make use of them.” 

“I need _you_ ,” she insisted. 

“You haven’t needed me in a very long time, Jane.” He pressed his forehead against hers. For a moment, Shepard was a little girl again, comforted by the presence and reassurance of her hero. Then Saren stood and stepped away from her. He pressed her pistol to the side of his head. “I’m so proud of you.”

“NO!” Shepard jumped forward, trying to stop him, how had she not notice him taking her pistol, how did she miss it-

Saren pulled the trigger. There was a spray of blue, and then Saren fell to the ground. Shepard let out an agonized shriek. 

“DAD!”

The world seemed to fall eerily silent. Shepard collapsed beside him and sobbed. She gripped at his armor and cried like she hadn’t since she was a child. She shook her head. “You can’t leave me like this, you can’t leave me to clean up your mess, please, Saren, please…” 

She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked over. Liara was kneeling beside her, her face full of sympathy. 

Shepard hiccupped a few times and wiped at her face. She fought to control herself, hard as it was, There was still a mission to do. She took one last look at Saren- and noticed something poking out from underneath his armor. Hesitantly, Shepard reached over and pulled it out. It was a slip of paper, folded up and creased many times. She unfolded it, and then barely contained another sob.

It was a drawing she’d done many, many years ago as a child. On it was a stick figure with red hair, labeled ‘ME’ and a crudely drawn turian labeled ‘SAIREN’. The paper had begun to yellow, and it had obviously been folded and unfolded many times. One corner looked like it had gotten soaked at one point, and there were long-dried spots of blue blood staining it. All these years, Saren had kept a stupid drawing that Shepard had forgotten about as soon as she’d given it to him. 

“Shepard, get back!”

Liara yanked at her arm, pulling her away from Saren’s corpse. After a moment of confusion, she saw why. His body was beginning to glow. Then, in a flash of red, his flesh and muscle and armor burned away. A mechanized skeleton with glowing red eyes stood in its place. Shepard looked on in horror. This was the Reapers’ final insult. They had taken her father, and now, she would have to put down what was left. 

Shepard folded the drawing and slipped it into her armor. She raised her assault rifle, angrier than she had been in her entire life. “The cycle ends here.”

*

Shepard spent three days in the hospital for a broken ankle, two broken ribs, a couple of bruised organs, and a rather severe concussion. Once she was released, she was publicly commended as the Hero of the Citadel. The celebrations and honors that were heaped upon her were bittersweet. The Council had decided in the aftermath that there wasn’t enough evidence to conclude that Sovereign had been anything but a geth ship. Meaning Saren wasn’t anything but an ordinary, power-grabbing traitor.

The lights in the apartment flickered on automatically as she and Nihlus stepped in. It was strange being back in her childhood home after eleven years. Everything was as she remembered it, for the most part. But it looked…deserted. There was a thin layer of dust on almost everything; Saren hadn’t been in the apartment for some time. Shepard wondered if he’d stopped living there entirely after he set out on his ill-fated journey to bring back the Reapers. 

“I’ll set everything up,” Nihlus told her. He set the bag down on the table. “You rest.”

She ignored him and began to explore the apartment. The kitchen cabinets were nearly empty, along with the fridge. She went into her room- which was just as she’d left it. The closet was thrown open with half of her clothes still hanging up. The bed was unmade. It showed all the signs of an angry eighteen-year-old hurriedly packing her bag to go find her own destiny. Saren hadn’t bothered to change it. Did he not care? Or did he not like remembering? 

After a great deal of hesitation, Shepard forced herself to go into his study. It was largely barren as well. The Reaper artifact he’d found was not there, just as she’d hoped. Whatever had happened to it, she didn’t care. Good riddance. That thing had ruined both of their lives. Shepard went over to his desk. There were, surprisingly, two dusty pictures sitting on top of it. One was of them, on the day of her Coming of Age ceremony. She was in her ceremonial garb, the remnants of the priestess’s green oil still on her forehead. Saren had his arm around her. They were both smiling. 

The second picture shocked her. It was of her- in her Alliance uniform. It was just an official Alliance headshot for ID purposes. Her hair was long then, and pulled back into the standard bun. She was smiling, just slightly, and standing with her back perfectly straight. The photo had been plastered everywhere after the Skyllian Blitz. Whenever anyone wanted to talk about the Hero of Elysium, they pulled up her ID photo. 

Saren must have saved it and had it framed. 

“And here I thought you hated me for joining the Alliance,” she murmured. She imagined Saren sitting at his desk, working ceaselessly, using her picture as motivation. Everything he did, he thought it was to protect her. 

Going into Saren’s room proved to be too painful of an idea. So, she went back into the living room. Nihlus had set almost everything up on his own: the candles, the photo of Saren, the offering dish. Shepard busied herself with lighting incense and blessing the doorways with oil. A turian funeral was a complicated affair. The entire area had to be blessed in order to keep away spirits that did not belong, and to appease the soul of the recently departed. 

When they finished setting up, she and Nihlus stood in front of the offering site. Saren’s picture seemed to stare at them with disinterest, as if he couldn’t imagine why they were giving him any rites at all. Shepard stepped forward and put her pistol in the offering dish. Saren had used it to take his life- as far as she was concerned, it was his now. She would use his pistol from now on instead.

“So you may take up arms in the worlds beyond,” she murmured.

Nihlus stepped forward next. He placed one of his medals in the dish. “To remind you that all I am is because of your teaching.”

Shepard bit back tears and leaned against Nihlus. It wasn’t right. For years he was slowly being manipulated, so subtly no one ever noticed. Now he was gone, with only two people to honor him. She bit her lip, trying to smother the sorrow and the outrage-

The front door opened.

She turned and watched as the Normandy crew began to slowly file in: Liara, Tali, Kaidan, Garrus, even Wrex. Anderson brought up the tail end of the line with two other turians: Desitis, her grandfather, and her feeble Gran. 

Garrus approached the offering dish and silently deposited a handful of ofris leaves- a gesture denoting his wish for Saren’s peaceful passing into the worlds beyond. Gran moved her levi-chair forward, her entire body shaking, and carefully placed an old toy in the dish. She returned to Desitis, who offered nothing. 

Shepard stared at her crew, in shock. She could hardly believe any of them bothered to show. 

“I’m…not familiar with turian funerals,” Liara said, finally breaking the silence. “Do we…say a few words?”

“It’s the child’s duty to say a prayer. To…honor him. And allow him to rest.” Shepard swallowed. Her throat felt dry. She didn’t know if she even remembered it, not completely. She shut her eyes. “Spirit of my father, your service has come to an end. Accept these offerings and carry them with you into the worlds beyond. Find peace in knowing that your clan- your clan carries on, and honors you for all you’ve done. Rest now, and guide us through the years we remain. We…we will join you, and the legion of our ancestors, in the years to come.” 

Shepard lifted the decanter of the remaining oil and poured it over the offerings. Then, her throat tight, she blew out the candles.

*

“It’s so good to see you again, Jane,” Gran said. She reached out with frail hands and clasped them over Shepard’s. She was nearing her 151st birthday- and it would, in all likelihood, be her last. “Your father wouldn’t let me speak to you, you know. He had Desitis block all your messages.” 

“Jane had been formally disowned, Mother,” Desitis replied. He looked unnervingly like Saren. Shepard was attempting to avoid eye contact. 

“Had been?” Shepard said, unable to avoid glancing towards him.

He nodded and produced a scroll from his pocket. It bore the official seal of the Clan Registrar. Desitis stared at her expectantly. Shepard broke the seal and unrolled it. It listed the Arterius line, all the way down to Desitis and his son-

“Saren isn’t on here. It just has Desolas.” she said. “And I’m listed as your daughter- that’s not right.”

“Saren has been slashed from the records, due to what he did,” Desitis said. “You were raised among us- you know what that sort of trouble a stain like that can cause.”

“A stain?!” Shepard threw the scroll on the ground. “To hell with your adoption. I’m Saren’s daughter, not yours. Now get out.” 

Desitis gave her a cold stare that could have rivaled one of Saren’s, but said nothing. He took his mother’s levi-chair and began to push her out of the room. Gran shot her one last apologetic look. She was old, her health was failing, and so was her mind. Desitis probably wouldn’t let Shepard see her again. 

“…do you want to go for a walk?” Nihlus asked, coming up behind her. 

Shepard nodded slowly.

*

“Red one.”

“Blue one.”

“Another red- no, two red.” 

Shepard curled up against Nihlus. She was barely keeping up with how many skycars she’d seen. All she cared about was getting out of her own head- which was probably why Nihlus brought her there to begin with. After two hours, Shepard sighed and buried her face into his neck. “Are you even keeping count?”

“No,” Nihlus admitted. “I just thought you needed a distraction.”

She sighed. “…all my life, I’ll have to defend his honor. _Me._ We’re the only ones- we’re the only ones who realize he was being manipulated. All those years…and he still resisted them at the end, didn’t he? So strong-willed the Reapers just couldn’t make him obey.” 

“It’s a burden,” Nihlus agreed. “To the rest of the galaxy, Saren is a traitor. But it’s a burden you do not have to bear alone.” 

Shepard looked at him for a moment, then kissed him. “I love you. You know that?” 

“I love you too.” He returned her kiss, then touched his forehead to hers. “Are you ready to go home?”

“…just a little bit longer?” Shepard asked.

Nihlus nodded. He looked back out at the skycar traffic. “Red one.”

“Blue one.”


	28. Epilogue

Shepard awoke with a start, pulling her head up off the bar. She looked around wildly. She was in a club of some sort. All around her people were talking and laughing and drinking. But, strangely enough, she couldn’t see many of them clearly. They were like distant figures, walking in and out of the mist. What was going on? Where was she? Where was Anderson, and the Illusive Man, and the boy- what had happened with the Reapers? What happened to Earth?

Someone sat down beside her. “Two drinks.”

Shepard’s head snapped to look at the person beside her. She hadn’t heard his voice in three years, but it was unmistakable. Saren sat right there, plain as day- without any of the tech he’d used to modify his body. 

“Saren?” Shepard said.

“Coming right up,” said the bartender. Shepard once again looked over sharply, recognizing the voice. Mordin offered her a grin. “Shepard. Good to see you again.”

With that, he turned back to the rows and rows of liquor behind him. 

“What…where…am I dreaming?” Shepard asked.

Saren shrugged. “Something like that.” 

“…am I dead?” Shepard asked. She remembered now. The choice. It had given her a choice. It told her she would die if she destroyed the Reapers, but she hadn’t hesitated. Not after Saren. They took away her father, they took away so many lives, so many friends- she couldn’t let the Reapers keep existing. Victory, at any cost. 

“Close. Not quite,” Mordin said. He slid them both their drinks. Saren give the salarian a look, and Mordin seemed to get the hint. “Ah, yes, of course. Father-daughter talk. Will go mix Anderson a drink- partial to vodka, if remember correctly.” With that he was gone, bustling off down the bar to attend to the other customers. 

“Eccentric one, isn’t he?” Saren said flatly. He took his drink and downed it in one go. Not to be outdone, Shepard did the same. She didn’t recognize the alcohol, but it went down easy. 

“Korbal,” she said, flipping her glass and laying it on the bar. 

“You’ve been spending too much time with those krogan of yours,” Saren said, but he smiled a bit. He turned his glass over as well. “Korbal- to your victory.”

“And my death.” Shepard replied. She accepted the idea with little sadness. She had a feeling all along that it would end this way. There would be no happy ending for her, no parade for the triumphant hero. Jane Shepard had given everything she had to the galaxy. What they did now was entirely up to them. Her only regret was Nihlus. They’d talked of retiring together once it was all over, and going somewhere quiet. It was wishful thinking, mostly. They’d both known things would never end that neatly. 

“You did well, Jane. Very well,” Saren said. “I was watching you. Guiding you, when you needed it. But you didn’t. Not very often, at least.”

“Part of me hoped you were,” Shepard said. She ran her finger around the bottom of the glass. “There were so many times I wanted to ask you for help. To call you up and have you tell me what to do.” She chuckled a bit and shook her head. “For years all I wanted was to do things my way. Then you throw me into the shit and I turn into a lost little girl crying for her dad.”

Saren smirked. “Believe it or not, there were times when I didn’t have the answers. That’s the secret you learn once you’re out on your own: everyone else is just faking it.” 

Shepard set her chin on her hand. “You faked it pretty well.”

“It’s a learned skill,” Saren said. “You’ve become an excellent Spectre. You’ve surpassed me, Nihlus…and every single person that came before you. You’re a legend now, Jane.” He chuckled just a bit and flipped his glass in his hand. “There were days I would look at you and think ‘this scrawny little human can’t ever become a soldier’, and every time I began to think that way, you proved me wrong.”

“Proving you wrong always was one of my favorite hobbies,” Shepard agreed.

“During the Skyllian Blitz, there was a point where I nearly dropped everything just to scour the battlefield for you. I was certain you were dead. And then there you were on the feeds, not only alive, but a hero.” Saren set his glass back on the bar. “It was the proudest moment of my life.”

“…I found my photo on your desk. The Alliance one,” Shepard said. “I didn’t think you wanted anything to do with me.”

“I told myself I didn’t. But, still.” Saren shrugged. “Sentimentality gets even the best of us.”

Shepard produced a piece of paper from her armor. “I know the feeling.”

Saren looked over at the folded drawing with a soft, almost nostalgic smile. Then, he looked up and met her eyes. “We’re almost out of time.”

“Time? What do you mean?” Shepard asked incredulously. She was dead, wasn’t she? What did they have time for?

“You’re not staying, Jane,” Saren said. “You’re going back.” 

“Back? As in- I’m not dead?” Strangely, she felt cheated. She’d already accepted the fact that her life was over. She was willing to let go of it all, to finally rest, and now he was telling her she had to go back? “I thought you said-”

Saren held up a hand, stopping her mid-sentence. “Close. Not quite.” 

“But…” It seemed stupid, arguing against living again. Most people didn’t want to die. Neither did she, really. But now that the opportunity to rest, to be reunited with the fallen, had finally appeared, Shepard was prepared to take it. 

“Don’t worry, Jane,” Saren said. “We’ll be waiting.”

Mordin reappeared at the bar and refilled Saren’s glass. Anderson came with him and sat down on the opposite side of Saren. Sworn enemies in life, they greeted each other in death with nods of respect. And beyond them, through the shifting crowd, Shepard thought she saw a human family at a table. A mother and a father and their son, who looked over and waved. Ashley walked in front of the boy, cutting off her view. She was laughing and talking with a fellow soldier. Shepard felt her throat tighten. 

“Go on, Jane,” Saren said. “Make me proud.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has read and supported this story! I hope you all enjoyed it!


End file.
